If loving you is wrong
by Batmanfan12
Summary: Diana is coming of age and her parents are eager to match her with a respectable suiter. She goes along with it while her heart yearns for someone else. She must make a choice of what is more important: pleasing her parents or her happiness. Rated T for possible abuse
1. Chapter 1

Barry's deserve perfection. This was Diana's mantra since as far back as she could remember. It was only fitting, given her family and their wealth. Being a member of the Barry family meant she was trained from an early age to learn the skills of a proper wife so she would grow up into a respectable woman of society.

Mrs. Barry was highly anxious in regards to her-and Minnie May's-future. Diana recalled memories of her earlier childhood, where her mother would stroke her her long, raven hair and tell her how she will be a lovely bride one day. As a young girl, marriage was an exciting prospect. Young Diana yearned for the day she could wear her up like a grownup lady and find a suitable man to court.

She and Minnie May had frequent lessons in etiquette, their mother claiming they were in need of a polish. Diana-she must repent for these troublesome thoughts later-_hated_ those lessons. Their instruction, Mrs. Rodefer, was a middle aged woman with a sharp tongue. Her greying hair was always tightly wrapped in a bun on the top of her head and she always wore the most elegant dresses. Mrs. Rodefer had the most unique punishments for when one of her students disobeyed her orders. Diana had been on the receiving end of those punishments a few times; as had her sister.

Diana inspected her appearance in the tall mirror, straightening her shoulders and forcing her lips upward in a smile. One could say it resembled a grimace, though. Mrs. Barry came up from behind, yanking on the ends of her hair. "What on God's green earth happened to your hair? It's positively wretched."

"Anne," Diana said softly, watching as Mrs. Barry took out the ribbons, tossing them aside momentarily and running a comb through the tangles that had resulted. "She asked if she braid them for me before I had to leave." The braids were uneven, loose and not all of Diana's hair had been incorporated into it, but it was also very lovely. Anne was not used to braiding someone else's hair nor was Diana used to having her hair out of her way. It was a nice change. How unfortunate her mother didn't believe so.

"You should have said no," Mrs. Barry was cross at her daughter. "You look like a beggar! I cannot believe you wore these in public. What were you thinking, Diana? What have I told you and Minnie May?"

"Your appearance is the most important thing about you," Diana recited perfectly.

"Preciously," Mrs. Barry said firmly. "You mustn't go out and about like a commoner. You're a Barry, Darling. We have a different way of living. I'm sure Marilla Cuthbert is fine with Anne looking homely, but you, I will not. It's unacceptable."

A surge of anger shot through her after her mother's insult of Anne. Anne may not have been the most graceful or socially aware, however, she had many redeeming qualities that out shined the flaws.

As respectful as could be considering the circumstances, Diana began, "Mother, I wish you would give Anne a chance. She's really nice and-"

Mrs. Barry didn't wish to discuss this any longer. "Hush, Dear," she ordered. Her daughter obeyed right away, she was pleased to note. "Honestly, the more you associate yourself with lower class the more you seem to be intent on becoming one."

Diana's smile faltered.

"Now," Mrs. Barry's hands were on Diana's shoulders, "isn't this a fine dress?"

The dress was a very bright orange with a white pinafore. It was actually very ugly, in Diana's opinion. Of course, she couldn't voice her thoughts to her mother unless she was keen on being subjected to a lengthy lecture about being grateful. For the second time that day, Diana knew she would have to repent. She lied easily.

"It's lovely, Mother."

Mrs. Barry beamed. "I just knew you would love it! Clara has an eye, I swear by it."

Clara was the Barry's dress designer. She was a frequent visitor to the house, typically in preparation for the special of occasions. Anne had once remarked that Diana was ever so lucky to have her. Diana did not feel reciprocate. Clara was nice enough, unlike Mrs. Rodefer, but her presence reminded Diana of her duties as a Barry; to uphold the family honor. Additionally, all these new dresses made her feel quite spoiled.

Diana resisted the urge to groan upon noticing her mother's scrutinizing gaze. This meant whatever compliment she'd given was taken back and she no longer liked it; not enough to keep.

"Darling, why don't we try another one, hmm? The color will clash terribly with your coat." Diana smiled thinly; privately miffed by her mother's persistence for this new dress she simply had to have.

"Perhaps you have more?" Mrs. Barry looked at Clara hopefully.

"Oh, yes," Clara unveiled two more dresses; one was a white lace and the other was a sky blue. "These might be of your taste."

Diana was handed those dresses by her mother and shuffled over to behind the folding screen to undress out of the one she was currently wearing and into the white lace. After she was finished, she came out to show her mother.

"Oh Diana!" Mrs. Barry placed a hand on her heart, eyes sparkling with unshed tears. "You look beautiful, Darling. So grown up."

"I cannot agree more," Clare smiled broadly. "What a lovely young woman you are turning into, Miss Diana. You will have many boys chasing after you, if they are not already."

"Oh Heavens no," Diana forced out a laugh while her mind wandered to one boy in particular. Her heart ached momentarily. _There is no use on wallowing. It's just not meant to be. _

"Quite right," Mrs. Barry didn't notice a change in Diana's demeanor. _She never does. _"Avonlea is such a nice town but there are no suitable men around here. No. Her father and I are looking far beyond Avonlea for our Diana."

"Oh?" Clara's eyes gleamed. "How far?"

"We've been thinking a nice Frenchman would be enticing," Mrs. Barry smirked.

"Oh," Clara was impressed. Then she said dreamily, "You're so lucky, Miss Diana. French men have such _divine _accents."

Once again, Diana feigned a smile. "Indeed, Miss Clara."

Clara wasn't entirely wrong. There was one French boy whose accent accelerated her heart faster than she thought humanly possible; whose kind eyes made her stomach flop in a funny way that it hadn't before. But he was the sort of boy who her parents would never approve of.

Sometimes Diana loathed being a Barry.


	2. Chapter 2

"Anne, Anne! Oh, do please wait up!"

Oh, what a sight Diana must have been! What, with her hiked up dress and wind-blown hair that unfastened it from the neat updo it was placed in earlier that morning. Her mother would have surely had a fit.

Anne's foul mood ostensibly came out of nowhere. Throughout the time they walked to school and before it began, she had been thrilled, if not terribly impatient, for the afternoon that awaited them. Mrs. Barry, with a great deal of reluctance, permitted her to work alongside Anne to complete their homework until it was time she return for supper. Truth be told, Diana found it difficult to overlook the slew of remarks made in regards to her friend. Mr. and Mrs. Barry disapproved of the Cuthbert's ranging from their upbringing of Anne to their modest living arrangements. Mrs. Barry had stated numerous times she would just simply _die_ if she was made to live like that.

"_I just do not know how they do it," she'd said over dinner. _

"_Do what, Dear?" Mr. Barry was hardly paying his wife any mind. _

"_Live like they do, William. The Cuthbert's and their ignorance just around me! Why, it's been a right decade since Marilla has been seen in a new dress. She always dresses so shabby." _

_Diana kept her gaze lowered to her plate, daintily dabbing her mouth with her handkerchief. Her muscles tensed; she wanted to defend Miss Cuthbert and the Cuthbert family but...she quickly gave up that idea. Her mother often said that children should be seen and not heard. Additionally, she feared she would be forbidden from Green Gables if she dared speak up. _

_So she did what was expected of her; she was silent. _

"Anne, please! This is silly." Diana suddenly gasped. Had it not been for those balancing lessons that Mrs. Rodefer taught them, she would have face planted on the damp, chilly ground (perhaps those lessons hadn't been an outright waste). "What's got you so upset? You were alright this morning."

She didn't want to assume without probable evidence nor did she wish to further push Anne into a worsen frame of mind. However, she had an inkling that a likely culprit of this was Gilbert. They had always been on opposite ends with each other since the famous "carrot" incident, Anne held a deep, unwavering grudge against Gilbert. As of lately, things seemed to grow worse, primarily on Anne's end. Diana had caught the two of them exchanging "heart eyes" as she dubbed it. It was brief, one would rapidly turn their head after making eye contact and she'd witnessed enough blushing faces to put two and two together. Honestly, if those two kept skirting around their feelings for each other she was going to do something about it herself!

Diana also knew Anne would rather die an excruciating death than admit her true feelings for Gilbert Blythe.

She glanced up ahead. Anne was trudging along, loosely carrying her school books with her face (still, she imagined) pinched all sourly. Ever since Miss Stacy dismissed them for the day, she stomped out in a fit of rage with her braids whipping dramatically behind her. Everyone else was used to what occurred between her and Gilbert that they didn't make a fuss about it. Miss Stacy had something, but Diana couldn't recall what it was. She supposed they would find out tomorrow or if Miss Stacy made a visit to Green Gables (which Marilla would be less than pleased with).

Anne turned around abruptly. She was visibly seething. Her porcelain face had reddened tremendously to reflect her mood; whether this was anger or embarrassment was unclear. "Have you ever been so revolted by the mere sight of someone, Diana?"

"Well, no," Diana replied in earnest. "What's troubling you so much? Is it Charlie again? I'm sure it's just a passing phase. Just give it time, he'll find someone else."

"Oh, if only my woes could be that simple," Anne sighed heavily. "But it is a fate worse than that, I am afraid."

"Oh? What is it?" Diana asked curiously.

"It's _Gilbert_!" Anne was scowling. "Oh how I despise him!"

"You don't mean that."

"Yes, I do," Anne insisted. "Gilbert Blythe is the most insufferable, most exasperating person I have ever had the unfortunate tragedy of becoming acquainted to! How dare he so-so," she struggled to come with an adequate sequence of words to describe the situation.

"Obscene?" Diana's tone was dry. In the back of her mind, she heard her mother's voice scolding her for her inappropriate tone. '_Ladies must speak properly and respectfully' _

"Thank you, Diana," Anne's nose was high in the air. Her bosome friend shook her head at her antics. "It is of little comfort, I must say. I am convinced I am cursed by Gilbert Blythe's presence until the very end of our schooldays."

"I'm sure you must be exaggerating," Diana said quietly. "What ever has Gilbert done to you besides calling you carrots?"

"_Besides_? Diana that moment was the most humiliating moment of my life!"

Diana loved Anne dearly but sometimes she wished Anne would just let things go like the Reverend preached at church. What use did she have to hold onto it? If anything, _she_ was miserable and not Gilbert (or, maybe he was. Maybe he longed for Anne to forgive him. That would be a day to remember. Anne was exhaustingly stubborn).

"Well it's forgotten now," Diana tried to sooth her. "No one other than you, Gilbert and I remember it."

Thankfully, this seemed to work. Anne relaxed a little. "Do you believe so?"

"Indeed I do," Diana smiled. Then she added, "perhaps if it wouldn't be rude of me to inquire, what did Gilbert do to you that's upset you so much? I haven't seen you like this since..." she trailed off, not wanting to resurface the previous conversation.

All at once, Anne's gloomy demeanor returned. "Oh, Diana! It was simply _horrendous_. I left my slate pencil on the kitchen table-Marilla's always telling me I must get my head out of the clouds. I'm afraid she's right. I'm afraid this must be God punishing me for my sins. Gilbert offered to let me use _his _slate pencil."

"That's nice," Diana remarked confusedly. She couldn't discern how _that_ could have distressed her so much. "What's wrong with that?"

"What's wrong with that?" Anne exclaimed.

"I know you don't like him, Anne, but at least you weren't unprepared. Heaven forbid if _Mr. Phillips_ was there-"

"It isn't about the pencil," Anne groaned. Diana just wasn't getting it.

"...I don't understand," Diana admitted.

With a brief glance from left to right, Anne leaned in close to whisper in case there was any prying ears within range, "He _winked_ at me, Diana!"

This piece of information confounded Diana whilst also confirming her inner suspicious about Gilbert's true feelings regarding Anne. She didn't want to let her friend know just quite yet, as it wouldn't be taken lightly; especially now. "He did?" she feigned surprise.

Anne nodded miserably. "Yes. "I would rather take a hundred, no, a _thousand_ lashes from a ruler than to be subjected to such a monstrosity for as long as I am to live."

"It was only a wink, Anne," Diana giggled in spite of herself. "I'm sure he was just being playful."

This was not what her bosome friend wanted to hear. "But I don't _want_ him to be playful."

By now, the girls had stumbled upon Green Gables. Mr. Cuthbert could be seen in his vegetable garden, tenderly caring for his...some kind of plant that she didn't know. _Carrots_? She thought humorously.

Miss Cuthbert must have been in the house, working on her daily household chores. Diana loved spending time around Green Gables and it wasn't entirely because Anne was her best friend; but it felt like home much more than her own home did. They were always very friendly to her, which she reciprocated. Of course, she licked her lips with a hint of a smile, her fondness for Green Gables was due to a little more than she was willing to admit.

Speaking of...Her stomach fluttered and that familiar wave of nervousness came over her as it always did when she came around. Her eyes darted over the property in search of _him_ but he was nowhere to be found. He might have gone home for the day. A part of her was saddened and another relieved.

It meant she didn't have to be on high alert.

"Err, hello girls," Mr. Cuthbert mumbled as they passed.

"Hello Matthew," Anne sighed.

"Good day, Mr. Cuthbert," Diana, out of habit instilled by her mother, curseyed. She then blushed. Nobody paid attention to it, thankfully.

"Everything alright, Anne?" Mr. Cuthbert did notice Anne's out of character behavior. "Bad day at school?"

Anne's face darkened back to that shade of red she'd been in the woods. "Oh, Matthew, it was horrible!" Instead of reiterating the story, she must have gotten an idea. "Matthew, perhaps this is awfully rotten of me to ask, but might I study from home?"

Mr. Cuthbert scratched the back of his neck. "Study from home?" he repeated.

Anne nodded eagerly. "Oh, yes. Tillie had to when she was sick with pneumonia. Miss Stacy came to her house everyday until she got better."

"But you're not sick," he pointed out. "What would you need to do that for?"

Anne was hesitant. "It would be a nice change," she said with hope in her voice. "Miss Stacy could come every afternoon and I'd have more to spend with you and Marilla. Please, Matthew? I'd appreciate it forever and would never ask for another thing for as long as I shall live."

Diana looked to Mr. Cuthbert, who was avoiding eye contact. "Err, I don't know. Why don't you go ask, Marilla?" he suggested as he turned back to his garden. "See what she says."

Anne drooped. Both girls knew that Miss Cuthbert would demand to know why she was having such 'foolish thoughts.'

"I'm doomed," Anne told Diana as they approached the house.

"You are not," Diana shook her head. "I'm sure you're worrying over nothing. No one else saw, did they?"

"I'm not sure," Anne's eyes widened. "What if they _did_ see? I'll never live it down! Ruby will be heartbroken!"

"Actually, I think she's given up on Gilbert. I saw her staring at Moody on Monday."

"Well, thank Heavens for small miracles," Anne said. She suddenly stood up straighter. "Diana, you mustn't spill a word of this to Jerry," she warned. "I would simply die if he knew."

"If I knew what?" Both girls jumped for entirely different reasons. To their left, carrying a bucket full of water in each hand, Jerry wore a mischievous smile on his lips. Diana found it hard not to stare. "Bonjour Miss Diana, Anne," he greeted. Had it simply been her imagination, or had his eyes lingered on her longer than they had for Anne?

No, she decided, she was just tired. The day was wearing on her. She needed water. Yes, that was it.

"J-Jerry," she blushed a faint pink at how silly she sounded. "Hello. Call me Diana, please. Surely Surely we're acquainted enough to be on a first name basis?" She managed to get it all out without stuttering anymore.

Jerry was pleased by this development. "If that is what you want; of course _Diana_." He smiled charmingly.

Diana had to keep herself in check, otherwise her heart would've leaped out of her chest. That smile of his was enough to take her breath away. Oh, dear. She was talking like Anne did when she spoke of something "romantical."

"Go away, Jerry," Anne said irritably. "Don't you have work to do?"

_Anne!_ Diana chastised in her mind.

Jerry sat down the buckets of water, running a hand through his tousled hair. Her mother would have been reeling in disgust. Diana found it endearing; there were certain spots that stood up on end and generally looked as if it was in need of a good brushing. "Oh, you're upset, aren't you? WHat's wrong? Did Gilbert upset you again?" His eyes twinkled. He must have heard Anne's complaints about Gilbert as much as Diana did.

Anne was indignant by his implication. She spluttered unattractively. "_No_. And I have absolutely nothing to say about Gilbert Blythe. I do _not_ want to talk about it."

Diana privately doubted that.

Jerry shrugged. "Fine by me."

"_Fine_!" Anne shot back childishly. "Now that we are in agreement, Diana and I are going to do our homework so you can't bother us."

"_Anne!_" Diana gasped at her rudeness. She spared a glance in Jerry's direction, but found he was offended at all.

He laughed, seemingly used to her outbursts.

_His voice is very deep_, she thought dreamily. She could've listened to it all day. _No, enough of that. _She mentally shook those thoughts away. _I shouldn't be thinking like this. Mother will..._ She frowned, knowing exactly how her mother would react to her fawning over a farm boy.

"I'm sure Mr. Cuthbert has work for me to do anyway. I ought to finish before supper. Good day to you, Miss- Diana," he corrected himself, picking up the buckets once more and drifting off into the opposite direction. Diana bit her lower lip. The way he said her _name _made her stomach do a flip flop.

"I'm sorry about him," Anne rolled her eyes as he passed them. "He's very much a bother."

"Oh, no," Diana said quickly. A little too quickly perhaps. Did he hear her? "He's not. I like Jerry, I mean he's very nice."

Anne was oblivious to her near slip up. "Yes, he can be a wonderful companion when he's not being _himself!_" She said loudly.

Jerry's laughter filled the air again.


	3. Chapter 3

Anne rolled her eyes, grumbling unladylike under her breath about bothersome boys. He'd most definitely touched a nerve by asking about Gilbert, Diana deduced. If anything, his inquiry had worsened her mood, though she was hopeful it would settle down once they began their homework.

"Jerry Baynard is the bane of my existence," Anne announced once they arrived inside. The chill was taken off the girls by the heat of the candles that had been lit since morning. Diana removed her coat, draping it over her arm. Her mother stressed the importance of following along with what the host (or hostess) did. It wasn't that much of a priority to her, as she'd been over to Green Gables many times, however her mother's voice still rang in her mind-pointing out every mistake she made.

"He's not that bad," Diana followed her to the kitchen, where they dropped their school things on the table. Smoothing down her dress, she sat down in one of the chairs while Anne fetched them a snack. "He's actually very nice."

Anne came back a moment later with a plate of chocolate chip cookies and two glasses of milk. Automatically, Diana stood up top hurriedly help her friend so as to avoid an unnecessary mess. "You sound like Marilla," Anne stated as if it was a sense of betrayal.

They both sat down, opening their geometry books. DIana pushed a straggling piece of hair back behind her ear. _Stop messing up your hair! Proper ladies have perfect hair at all times_, her mother's voice lectured her. It froze her momentarily, she shook it off and reached for a cookie. "Thank you," she made sure to say. She bit into it, resisting the urge to moan. Those were heavenly! Miss Cuthbert was a delightful cook, even so more than the hired help her parents employed.

"These are very good," Diana complimented, steering the conversation away from Jerry. It was best they didn't discuss him, for she didn't know if she was able to handle it without blushing.

Anne never picked up on her true intentions. She went right along with it. "Yes, Marilla is a magnificent cook. If she had children, I'm sure they would have been too." She sat her chin the cup of her palms, looking thoughtful, "I wonder what my parents would have given me. I wonder what they were like; how they fell in love, what they did as children. It's ever most envious of everyone else; _they_ never have wonder."

It was a perspective shifter, Anne's words. Diana knew, of course, of her past as an orphan (what Anne was willing to share), but those intimate details of her longings was a real epiphany. There she was, wishing her parents, her _mother_, could change while she was lucky to have them at all. _She_ never had to wonder.

"I'd like to learn about my parents," Anne revealed quietly, "anything at all. I'm not certain Matthew and Marilla would allow me."

"Why wouldn't they?" Diana frowned. "I assume they would understand how important it is to you. Have you tried asking them?"

Anne fiddled with one of her braids, twisting it around on her finger. It tore some of the hair out, causing it to look disheveled. "...No. But I simply cannot."

"But _why_?" Diana probed. "What's stopping you?"

"I-I," for the first time in a long time, Anne was troubled. She'd been upset prior to this, but Diana saw the raw emotion on her face and it was disheartening, to say the least. "I'm afraid I'll hurt them," she said in a whisper that Diana had to strain to hear.

"Oh Anne," Diana breathed. "You won't."

"You don't know that!" Anne stood up abruptly. Diana watched her from her seat, unsurely. "What if they become angry at me? What if they perceive me as being ungrateful? What if I go and there's a long lost relative looking for me?" She sat back down, her eyes staring ahead dully. "I don't want to leave Green Gables, Diana."

Diana reached across the table to grasp her hand, squeezing it comfortingly. "Mr. and Miss Cuthbert adore you. They'll understand you just want closure. And if they do indeed become angry, it's only because they love you so much." She smiled and continued, "and if there was some long lost relative looking for, they haven't tried very hard, have they?"

Anne considered this. "I suppose so," she said at last. Diana could decipher that she wasn't thoroughly convinced.

"You've nothing to worry about," she promised. "Now, shall we begin our homework? I'm due home soon and Mother will be vexed if she finds out I neglected my work." She choose her next words carefully, adding, "she already thinks school is a waste of my time. She's very set on sending me and eventually Minnie May to a finishing school in France."

Anne pulled back, studying her face. "What do you think about that? Do you even _want_ to go?"

Diana stiffened. "The matter does not concern me."

Anne was gobsmacked. "It's _about_ you, Diana. How can you say that?"

Diana felt a tug on her heart. She'd been struggling with the weight of the situation on her shoulders since her parents had informed her over dinner one evening. She didn't _want_ to go, to leave Avonlea and her all friends, to lose her chance of attending Queens with Anne.

_To leave Jerry _

"I don't have a choice in the matter," Diana said, sighing. "It isn't up to me."

"It should be," Anne muttered.

"I really don't think-"

"Diana, this is _irreversible_. Do you not fathom that?"

"I do," a lump formed in her throat, she swallowed thickly. "I absolutely do. But I _do not have a say_. My mother and father will tell me how ungrateful I am for not taking this chance!" Her eyes teared up, despite her attempts at trying to remain neutral. "My life isn't like yours, Anne. I don't have the choices you do. Mine are made up for me."

A silence loomed over them.

Anne wrapped her arms around Diana's shoulders, burying her face in the fabric of her puffed sleeves. "I don't want you to leave," she was steadily losing her own composure.

Diana hugged her back, just barely pushing back a sob, "I know! I don't want to either."

They stayed in that position for some time, for that's how it felt; in the reassurance of one another. Neither of them heard the front door open and close, nor did they notice the figure of Miss Cuthbert until she spoke.  
"Perhaps if you focused on your geometry as much as you did on Diana, you would be a scholar, Anne."

They broke apart, wiping away at their faces. Miss Cuthbert took a closer look at Anne's untidy appearance, pursing her lips.

"For Heaven's sake, what's happened to you?"

"I'm sorry, Marilla. Diana was just telling me the most tragical tale!" Anne explained in that dramatic fashion of hers.

"I'll take the short version," Miss Cuthbert said dryly.

Anne obliged her. "Diana is being forced to go to finishing school but she doesn't want to."

The sternness lifted from Miss Cuthbert's face, replaced by a minute touch of sympathy. "Yes, well, that's quite unfortunate. I assume your parents are quite set on it?" She asked.

Diana nodded miserably. "Mother is eager to find me a suiter."

"Which is _abominable _because-"  
"Anne!" Miss Cuthbert snapped. Anne stopped. "You're out of line. Now, while I don't agree with Mr. and Mrs. Barry, they've every right to want the best for their daughter; even if it goes against _your_ idea of a fulfilled life."

"But Marilla-"

Miss Cuthbert held up a hand to silence her. "I don't want to hear another word of it. You begged for Diana to come over and now she's here and you're _still_ wallowing. Calm yourself before I send Diana home."

Diana prayed she would listen. It had been a relief to escape to a place she felt she belonged to. She would of hated to leave early. She snuck a glance at Anne; her face was unreadable. Was she angry or embarrassed that Miss Cuthbert had scolded her?

"Yes, ma'am," Anne mumbled.

"Look me in the eye and speak clearly," Miss Cuthbert commanded firmly. "I'll not tolerate anymore disrespect."

Anne did as she was told. "Yes, ma'am," she said, with her hands clasped together behind her back.

They got back to work, diligently staying on task with Miss Cuthbert's threat of sending Diana home early looming over them. Half an hour passed; Diana's arms felt uncomfortably tight. She stretched them over the back of her head. She decided to take a very brief break and look out the window. It was more pleasant than looking out the window at her own home; Matthew was often seen working on the outdoor chores still or the scenary of Green Gables caught her eye. However, today, something else did.

Jerry was lovingly stroking one of the horse's backs. She could see his lips moving but was unable to make sense of it. _He's fixed his hair_, she noted. It was laying flat, still in need of some grooming but a little more neatly than when she'd first saw it.

He always looked so happy whenever he was around the animals. Did his family own any? She wasn't certain, what with how little money they had, there probably wasn't much left over for anything else.

She turned back around, feeling slightly desolate. Anne was working out a problem, engrossed. There was nothing else when that happened. Diana bit down on her lower lip. She hadn't told Anne about these...peculiar affections she held for Jerry. There was no need to, she reasoned. It was not to be and besides, Anne would make a scene over it. She'd tell her she should follow her heart or some other nonsense.

"What were you staring at?"

Diana nearly jumped out of her chair. "P-Pardon?" she said weakly. She'd thought Anne was preoccupied. Had she-?

"You were staring out the window and smiling. What were you looking at?"

Diana's heart quickened. Her brain was frazzled as she tried to think up something to get herself out of this. She didn't want to _lie_ to Anne; it was morally wrong. Her father had said a liar should be shamed to the highest degree. Would he do that to her?

"Nothing," she toyed with the ends of her hair. A nervous habit she sometimes resorted to. "I saw Jerry." Her tongue slipped. _Oh no! _

Anne's eyebrows flew up to her hairline.

"H-he was petting one of your horses." It was half of the truth. "It was very cute. I wish Mother and Father would allow Minnie May and I our own horse." That was a lie. She and her sister were already terribly spoiled. She needn't another reason to add to it.

"Oh," Anne accepted this. Then she giggled. "I thought you were going to say you were smiling _because_ of Jerry."

Diana laughed as well, though it was more of a nervous, breathy laugh.

"You only like those rich, high society men," Anne said teasingly, reaching to nudge her. "Jerry is simply too dreadfully boring for your taste."

Diana faked a chuckle. On the inside, she processed Anne's words. _I don't like those kind, my mother does. And Jerry isn't boring...he's...he's exciting. _

_He represents everything I want, everything I yearn for. _

_Anne thinks I could never love him and she could never be more wrong. _


	4. Chapter 4

Diana was going to miss this; she was going to miss the familiar, the everyday things she had taken for granted unintentionally. She was to be shipped off to somewhere new, without the guidance of Miss Stacy to help pave a clear path; studying with girls she would have no understanding of, except their name, unlike the bond she shared with (most of) her classmates she had now, knowing them since they were young children. And Anne, this pained her greatly. No longer would be have the privilege of visiting Green Gables and giggling girlishly with Anne while mimicking grown up ladies. She'd known one day this would all have ended, her childhood, for good. It had been coming for a long time, this day. She'd hoped that by putting it on the backburner, the problem would cease on its own.

She was a fool.

The memories haunted her, floating through her mind unstoppably. Her heart ached, as it had since her mother had presented the news. She could remember specifics, of how she felt right then and the strength it took to compose herself. Finishing school was a dream of hers as a little girl; all she had ever wanted to be the perfect lady.

Now that the dream of hers was becoming a reality, her heart was reconsidering. Things had changed since Anne Shirley became a permanent fixture in her life. _She'd_ changed. And the need for conformity was difficult to accept.

"I don't understand," Anne murmured.

Once Diana expertly explained the geometry in a way that Anne was able to comprehend, they flew through the rest of their homework. Sometime later Miss Cuthbert walked in on Anne chewing on her fourth or fifth cookie. She wagged a finger in her direction, stating that she'd better let Diana have a fair amount _and_ that there would be consequences if her appetite was spoiled.

Diana knew her mother would be less than pleased if she spoiled her appetite, too. She limited herself to just three cookies, pocketing the fourth (with encouragement from Anne) for Minnie May.

She and Anne retreated upstairs to Anne's bedroom, where they flopped on the bed to talk about anything and everything. It was a reminder of what she was leaving behind. Her chest burned and a lump formed in her throat. Would Anne find a new bosom friend after she left? Would _she_ find a new friend to share everything with? The hurt nipped at her like she was thrown out in the cold, naked. A deep, nauseating sensation settled within her stomach that churned the cookies and milk she'd consumed like rough, out of control ocean waves. She only wanted to bury herself in her bedroom, curled under blankets and sobbing until would exhaust themselves.

But she won't, she won't allow herself to ruin what time she has left.

Diana craned her neck to make eye contact with Anne, at the very least to identify her facial expression. She and Anne were on their backs, facing opposite ways, feet dangling off the edge of the bed. Diana laid with her hands clasped together on her stomach as she stared up at the ceiling. Anne's feet were in close proximity to her head; with a hint of caution she inched closer to the end of the bed to avoid being kicked. But even that didn't spoil the treasured moment. Diana basked in it. Her hair was sprawled out in waves, garnering tangles. Her mother would have a conniption fit. The thought exhilarated her.

"What don't you understand?"

Anne moved her arms to position behind her head. She spoke distractedly, "About Ruby."

Was she being purposefully vague? "What about Ruby?" Diana had a clue that she was referring to Ruby's change of heart about Gilbert.

"Do you think she really loves Moody?" Anne asked with hesitance. Diana was glad that she couldn't see the smile that was on her face. "It's a bit sudden, isn't it? They've never interacted before, have they? Though, I suppose she and Gilbert hadn't either."

Diana always kept herself between the lines, refusing to even toe-dip in the pool of gossip. It wasn't with the intention of defaming poor Ruby, Lord knows she wouldn't be able to stand and watch her face crumple as she bursts into tears. There was a drawback of living in a small town; namely when one occupant was Mrs. Lynde. If anyone-Ruby or, heaven forbid, her mother, had heard an ounce of this, she would die of embarrassment. Mrs. Barry would explode if she found out that her daughter wasn't acting like a proper lady should.

"I don't know," she said truthfully. "I don't believe so. She'd never been very fond of him." Diana had been the only one with sense to scold Ruby for moaning in despair about Moody's lack of...quality in his appearance.

_She certainly isn't saying that now _

"She's fond of him now," Anne blew out a puff of air. Diana thought this was a bit strange. Was Anne angry that Ruby had moved on? "I just cannot imagine that her intense feelings toward Gilbert are gone. How do you get over someone so quickly?"

_I don't know but I am sure I'll have to find out for myself _

Just below Anne's open window, she could hear unintelligible fragments of Jerry conversing with Mr. Cuthbert. He laughed at one point. Was she crazy? She wondered. Keeping an eye on someone who would never be more than an acquaintance, nothing more than Anne's farmhand...

"I don't know," she repeated her earlier words. "Love is supposed to be a powerful force. I don't think it just stops." _It shouldn't. Love is forever. _"Maybe Ruby never loved Gilbert."

"But she said she did?" Anne sat up abruptly. "Why would she say she did when she didn't?"

"I think she believed she was but was mistaken," Diana said, carefully choosing her words. "I think she was in love with the _idea_ of Gilbert, rather than in love _with_ Gilbert." Diana had been around Ruby since they were both children. All that time she'd been enamored by Gilbert, especially as they became older. It was only when Anne had come that she found her to be a threat. Before that, Ruby would go on and on about her adoration for Gilbert. But those exclamations revolved around how handsome he was, or how perfect he was. She never took a deeper look into his character or faults.

"Do you believe she's doing the same with Moody?"

Diana didn't want to make assumptions. She already felt a twinge of guilt for speaking out of turn about someone who was very friendly to her. "I'm not sure."

Diana could just hear the gears turning in his friend's head. "It is a real possibility that she'll have gotten over Moody at some point and will go back to longing for Gilbert."

"What makes you so sure?"

Anne didn't speak right away. She opened her mouth and closed it. "I don't know," she lied. Diana knew she was lying. She fingering the end of one of her braids, what was left of it anyway. "Ruby's fickle," she came up with a half-attempt at satisfying Diana's question. Her friend was not impressed.

_I don't think that's it _

"I see," Diana said.  
"What?" Anne said defensively.

Diana raised her eyebrows.

"You don't believe me!"

_I don't _

"I never said I didn't."

_Liar _

"I can tell," Anne pouted. "It was the way you spoke."

Diana stared at her for all of ten seconds before she began laughing. Her giggles turned into belly-laughs. It was only the thought that Mr. Cuthbert and Jerry could probably hear her that she made an effort to quiet herself down.

"I'm sorry," she said with a few lingering giggles, "I'm really sorry."

Anne was bewildered. "Are you alright?"

_I've never been better _

"I'm fine," the laughter was gone. Her face turned more serious. That in itself made Anne's eyebrows raise and Diana fought to keep another round of glee down. "I was just...ah, nevermind." She waved it away with her hand.

"Okay," Anne said slowly.

Diana grinned. That smile slipped off her face as she remembered. "I'm going to miss this," she said quietly. "I'm going to miss you. I'm going to miss all of you."

Anne laid down next to her, leaning her head to touch Diana's. "I'll miss you too. I'll never find a bosom friend like you."

They grabbed each other's hands.

"Bosom friends forever," they recited by heart and beamed.

Diana took a gander out the window, startled by the realization that it was later than she thought it was. The sun was in its beginning stages of settling down for the day. Mary Joe would have dinner prepared very soon. "I ought to leave now. Supper must be almost ready and Mother hates it when Minnie May and I are not punctual."

She sat up, wincing at the dull pain in her lower back. Habitually, she reached out to primp her hair. Anne knew of how much Mrs. Barry valued appearance; she helped make her hair more presentable.

"How does it look?" Diana asked.

"Good, but you might want to sweep it to the side until you can brush it," Anne advised.

"Good idea," Diana praised.

She began to gather her belongings. Anne handed her one of her books, disappointed that she was leaving so soon. "I do wish you didn't have to leave. I could ask Matthew and Marilla if you could stay for a little while longer," she tried to suggest. "I'm sure they wouldn't mind. They love you dearly. Marilla probably thinks you're a good influence on me, you're very proper. Marilla wishes I was more sensible and proper, but she also says she loves me just the way I am. I find that to be a bit of a contradiction, don't you think?"

Diana had been silent so far through Anne's ramblings. _Miss Cuthbert thinks I'm proper. She wouldn't continue to believe so if she knew- _She stopped herself.

"I think you've mellowed out quite well since your arrival," Diana complimented. "You haven't gotten me drunk again." The two girls burst into giggles at the remainder. Diana was sure her mother was extremely close to having a breakdown that day. She'd stormed home with Diana in tow, an uncomfortable-boarding on painful-grip on her forearm; taking her straight to the parlor room where her father was reading his paper and Minnie May was playing with her dolls. Her mother sent Minnie May upstairs to her room (ordered her, _screamed_ at her; Diana had been unsettled by the way her sister's eyes filled up with tears and she ran off, not understanding that her Mother's odd behavior was due to a simple accident).

"I should hope so," Anne was done laughing, now taking on a serious look and tone of voice. "Marilla was mortified and told me I must try my hardest to pay attention. Mrs. Lynde told her that Mrs. Barry was telling everyone about how troublesome I was. Mrs. Lynde didn't know anything about me getting you drunk but she managed to get Marilla to tell her."

Diana's foot drew an imaginary circle on the floor, highly embarrassed by the way her mother reacted. "I'm sorry," she said. "She shouldn't have said that. You aren't troublesome. You never meant for it to happen."

She wanted to take back all the nasty, impolite assertions her mother had said with flippant disregard for Anne's feelings. It wasn't _fair_. It wasn't _right_. Money or status shouldn't dictate how you treated someone.

_You're a hypocrite. A terrible hypocrite_

She thought distinctly of Jerry.

They walked down the stairs, their boots clumping. Miss Cuthbert was coming inside. "Leaving so soon, Diana? Would your folks mind if you stayed for dinner? I have beef stew that's boiling on the stove."

That sounded scrumptious. Anne was giving her a pleading look, silently begging that she accept. "I'm afraid, I have to decline, Miss Cuthbert. My mother is expecting me."

Miss Cuthbert accepted this explanation. "Of course. Tell your parents that I said hello."

"I will," Diana promised. "Thank you for allowing me to come over. I appreciate it."

"You're very welcome, Dear," Miss Cuthbert said lovingly. "You know you're always welcomed over. We love having you, Diana."

Diana knew this. She relished it. Truth be told, she wouldn't have minded to stay just a little while longer. She was able to relax, not sit up with her back as straight as it could go nor was she burdened with the idea she must look prim at all times. Miss Cuthbert never once ordered her to fix her hair when it came undone from her ribbon or to smooth down her dress to remove the wrinkles. She felt guilty for preferring this over her own home.

"Goodbye, Anne," She exchanged another hug with her bosom friend.

"Bye Diana," Anne smiled, then was instructed by Miss Cuthbert to go stir the pot that contained the beef stew.

Diana shut the door behind her. The wind had grown stranger while she was there. It was slightly more chilly than it had been. She pulled her coat closer to her body, shivering involuntary.

She began to wander down the path that led away from Green Gables. Her eyes were wide in awe of the incoming sunset that was forming. The sky shined with a purple, reddish tint that colored the clouds beautifully.

She didn't care there was a chance her mother would find out-she skipped. She skipped down the hill, shouting a goodbye to Mr. Cuthbert (he reacted like he was alarmed by the unsuspecting noise).

By the time rationality entered her mind, she had wandered back into the woods.

_I shouldn't do this _

_Mother will be furious _

_I must look ridiculous_

_...but I don't care _

Diana's face split into a grin as she took in the wondrous sight before her. She stepped over a medium sized rock carefully, hiking up the bottom of her dress as ladylike as she could maintain. The autumn season had come and already the earth was bursting with radiance. The leaves had changed from grassy green to beautiful shades of red and orange; floating softly to the ground as they fell. It was like a cascading waterfall. Her heart was soaring and she truly felt like a princess in that moment, surrounded by the beauty of nature.

She was not ashamed to admit that Anne had influenced her.

A branch cracked behind her. She jumped, whirling around to face whoever was there.

Jerry.

"Jerry!" she squeaked out most embarrassingly. She took a step back, ignorant of the thick tree root that was directly behind her. Her foot hit it, she let out a cry of surprise and fell back.

"Diana!" he rushed to her side, worry etched on his face. "Oh, my. Are you alright? Shall I get Mr. Cuthbert? A doctor?"

"No, no," she was certain the pain in her back would subside after she rested. Otherwise, there was no other injury she could recognize. "I'm fine." He extended his hand to help her to her feet. She allowed him to do so, noticing how gently his much large hand held hers. "Thank you." She dusted off the front of her dress, twisting around to see if the back of her was affected. Her heart dropped- there was a mud stain right above her butt. "Oh no," she was upset.

"What's wrong?" he caught a glimpse of what was causing her woe. "Oh," he said in a small voice. He wrung his hands. "I'm very sorry, Diana. I'm sure that must have cost a lot. I-I can ask my father if I may use some of my wages to help pay for it," he rambled.

She stared at him. Did he really think she was bothered by the stain because it (most likely) ruined a pretty dress? She was already anticipating her mother's reaction-would she forbid her from going to Anne's house ever again? Mrs. Barry would do anything to keep her daughter looking as proper as she ought to be.

"No!" she burst out. He was caught off guard. "I-I mean, no. You don't have to do that, Jerry. It was an accident. I was surprised, I should have paid more attention."

"But your dress..."

"I can ask Mary Joe to fix it," she hoped the woman would do so without informing her mother.

"Is she a relative?" Jerry asked. Probably to be polite.

"No," Diana muttered. That wave of embarrassment she felt when she first noticed he was there came back. The differences in their family dynamics were notable. "She's our maid."

"Oh," this was something unfamiliar to him. There was no judgement in his voice, though. "Does she do everything for you, then?"

He might not have meant it harshly, but the reality came crashing down onto her. Mary Joe indeed do a lot for the Barry's, whatever her parents, or Minnie May if she was able to get away with it, didn't want to do. Diana took up more responsibility after becoming Anne's friend. If she wasn't going to get an education, the least she could do was be a contributing member to society and become more independent.

"Not everything," she fidgeted. "I could never ask that much of her."

The unvoiced insinuation of how the rest of her family did not have that same belief was clear.

"I hope you do not get in trouble," he said softly.

She hoped the same.

'I'm also very sorry for startling you."

"It's okay," she reassured him. "Don't worry about it."

He nodded again, not saying anything else.

"I didn't expect to see you," she continued. "I thought you were still working."

He used his foot to draw a circle in the dirt, rubbing the back of his neck. "Mr. Cuthbert lets me leave early when winter is coming so I don't have to walk alone in the dark. My mother prefers I don't."

"I see," was her reply.

"Yes," he said awkwardly.

They really didn't know _what_ to say to each other. She was sure he'd seen her acting...like that.

"Jerry," she nervously tucked and untucked hair behind her ear. "Did you-did you happen to see-"

"I won't tell anyone Miss Barry-_Diana_," he said with sincerity. "Your secret is safe with me."

"Thank you," she almost lost herself looking into his expressive brown eyes. He must of thought of her as silly. "I should have been more careful."

She can't help but notice the differences in their height. He towered over her easily; she had to look up to meet his eyes.

"What were you laughing at?" He was curious. "In Anne's room. Mr. Cuthbert and I heard you. I think you scared him." He chuckled.

She let out a giggle. "Oh, that. Anne is just in denial."

"About Gilbert?" Jerry said knowingly. "She talks about him many, many times. Although I am to believe she hates him? If she hated him, why does she continue to speak of him?"

"She has feelings for him," Diana told him. "I've seen them during school. Gilbert is always giving Anne heart eyes."

"Heart eyes?" Jerry repeated.

Diana did her best impression of Gilbert doing just that. Jerry was amused. The corners of his eyes crinkled and she saw a flash of his teeth. "It sounds like they are both very smitten with each other. Anne taught me that word," he said proudly.

"Anne is still teaching you?" she asked more to herself. "I thought she'd stopped because she's studying for Queens."

"I thought we would have to. Miss Cuthbert mentioned to me that Anne might not have time. But Anne said she would make time for me."

"That's nice of her," Diana said. Jerry and Anne might bicker, not as much as Anne and Gilbert but she digressed, but Anne had a heart of gold. She always kept her promises somehow.

"Yes," Jerry nodded in agreement, "I do not know how I could ever repay her for all she has done for me."

"I'm sure she doesn't expect anything in return."

"I still wish to do something," he crossed his arms, thinking.

Diana came up with something first. "Maybe you could write her a thank you note? Or read an excerpt from a book?"

"Excerpt?" he blinked cluelessly.

"A short piece of text, like a paragraph," she explained.

He mouthed, "Oh".

"I think she would love it it," she said. "You'd show her how far you've progressed."

"That is brilliant!" he praised. "Thank you, Diana!"

"Oh, you're welcome," she said bashfully. She was secretly relishing in his praise. "I think I should be going now."

"Oh," was he disappointed? "I should be going as well. It's my turn to cook dinner."

"You help cook?" she couldn't help but voice her surprise. Not many boys, not the ones she knew of, would voluntarily offer their services for household chores. Gilbert might but someone like Billy? Absolutely not.

"Yes," he said. "My family is big, we all take turns. My mother taught me to cook when I was young. I enjoy it more than farm work. But I do like the animals, they are very sweet. Have you ever pet a horse before?"

"Once. But I got scared. I haven't touched one since."

"I can ask Mr. Cuthbert if I can show their horse," he suggested. "I'll be with you the whole time. Would you like that?"

She would. She most certainly would.

"Yes!" she then tried not to sound too eager. _Calm yourself, Di. _"Yes, that's kind of you, Jerry. Thank you."

His smile could've lit a thousand lanterns. "You're welcome. Au revoir, Diana."

She went home feeling happier than she had in a while.


	5. Chapter 5

She was still able to envision his smile, his handsome smile that brought forth a brigade of butterflies fluttering around inside her stomach. She could not hold back the wide grin that split across her face. The embarrassing moment she'd experienced was set aside; he made her feel so _light_, so _carefree_.

It didn't even matter that she was dangerously close to missing her curfew that her mother set up nor was her befuddling appearance a concern. Feeling daring, she pulled out her hair ribbon, running a hand through her wind-blown curls. She should have stopped right there, to ponder the probable consequences; or even long enough for the realization to kick in that she was behaving too recklessly.

_Aunt Josephine would think of me a fool_, she thought. Her aunt was a force to be reckoned with and would most likely laugh at the thought of her niece believing that removing a hair piece and almost being late was too "reckless."

_I hope Mother and Father don't see me_

As quietly and slowly as humanly capable, she opened the door, peeking her head just enough to look around for the figures of her parents. Her body relaxed just a smidge when she saw they were nowhere in sight.

"Miss Diana!" She shut her eyes in defeat. She had been halfway through. "There you are. I was becoming worried."

Diana forced a smile, that was nearly physically painful, onto her face to appear friendly or at least not as though she had just been caught. "Mary Joe. Hello. I'm sorry that I worried you. I was stopped on the way home."

Mary Joe was on alert. "Nothing happened, did it?" she asked anxiously. Mary Joe was a presence in the Barry girls' lives since they were born. She could have been considered a second mother as she had been more of a help than Eliza Barry was to her own daughters.

"No," Diana said truthfully as she watched the woman sigh with relief. "Nothing happened. We just talked."

"About what and with whom?"

How daft of her. She couldn't very well tell Mary Joe that she'd (unintentionally) met up with Jerry, not when her parents could be within earshot. "Someone from school," she tried to be nonchalant. "They didn't know what section from our math book was to be done so I told them."

"Oh," Mary Joe thought nothing else of it. "I see."

"Mary Joe, may I ask where Mother and Father are?"

"In your father's study." Oh, good. "Do you want me to fetch them for you, Miss?"

"No!" She shot out quickly. Mary joe blinked. "I mean, no thank you. I was just wondering."

"Alright, well I should be getting back to dinner. If you need anything else, Miss Diana, just give me a holler," Mary Joe curseyed. She was on her way back to the kitchen when Diana spoke up:

"Actually, I am in need of your time if you have a moment."

"Of course," Mary Joe was at her beck and call. That was how the Barry household was ran. "What is it you need?"

Diana faced the wall to show Mary Joe the stain. "Oh, dear," Mary Joe said. "How did this happen, Miss Diana? Were you pushed?"

"No, I tripped and fell," Diana shook her head. "Oh, please, Mary Joe, please keep this a secret from Mother and Father." Her surrogate mother was visibly uncomfortable by the request. "I am begging you. They cannot find out about this. It's very important that they don't."

"I'm not sure this is wise, Miss."

"I know," Diana kept looking around to make sure they weren't eavesdropping. "And I'm terribly sorry for putting you in this position. Please, just this once?"

"I suppose," Mary Joe said reluctantly. "But please do not make a habit of this."

"I won't," Diana let out a heavy sigh. "I assure you this won't become a problem. Thank you, Mary Joe."

"You're welcome. If you'll take it off I'll have it finished by tonight."

Her parents never noticed that she changed her dress; it was similar to the one she had gotten the stain on: a pretty sky blue with puffed sleeves. Diana's nearly became lightheaded from the rigorous beating her heart was doing as she met her parents in the corridor. Her mother remarked that she was strangely pale but otherwise went about her business. She'd waited until they were downstairs and slid down the wall, burying her face in her hands.

The four of them sat around the table, not speaking a word to one another. Diana wondered what it would be like to live amongst Jerry's family; he mentioned they were a big family. Did that mean they had lively conversations with lots of laughter? Were they as kind and lovely as Jerry was?

One of the other maids served them cabbage soup as an appetizer. The warm, hearty substance took the chill off of her. Diana was halfway through with hers while Minnie May was stubbornly refusing to eat any of it.

"Stop this insubordinate, childish behavior at once, Minnie May!" Mrs. Barry was growing flustered. It only took once of a warning or a glare for Minnie May to obey. This was a different story. Diana was silently praying that her sister would just corporate and eat it. She knew since this morning that there was to be lemon squares for dessert. At this rate, Minnie May would be having none of it.

"Minnie May, please eat!" Mrs. Barry snapped. She looked to her husband for reinforcement. "William, might you lend a hand?"

"Minnie May, listen to you mother," Mr. Barry was reading the rest of his paper and waved a hand lazily.

This worsened Mrs. Barry's mood. "Stop staring," she snapped again, this time at Diana. She hadn't been staring, merely glancing around the room. "I've told you how rude it is to stare while someone is disciplining their child, haven't I?"

"Yes," Diana pushed some hair behind her ears. "I'm sorry."

"And stop with that incessant messing of your hair! You'll look ragged."

Diana's appetite diminished.

"Minnie May!" Mrs. Barry cried as her youngest daughter threw her napkin to the side and ran off. For a split second, she looked ready to drop to the floor and cry. But she didn't. "No dinner for her then," she said briskly just as the maid came out with the rest of their meal. "If she won't eat what's given to her she'll just have to wait until breakfast. Take it away," she gestured to the maid. The woman nodded meekly and took away Minnie May's glass and bowl.

Her father didn't even bat an eye, presumably he hardly noticed that Minnie May had left. Diana moved her spoon around in her bowl uninterestedly. The desire for food was gone and all she wanted to do was go up to her bedroom and curl up on her bed.

"Did you and Anne finish your homework, Diana?"

"Yes, Mother," she replied with perfect manners.

"Was it difficult?'

"No, Mother. I understood all of it."

"Good, not that it will be needed for your future, of course."

Diana drank her water, displeased that they had arrived to that particular topic again. There was no escape. It was all too suffocating. Again and again, she heard how wonderful she would do in Paris, especially once she was suited up with a splendid gentlemen.

"Remind me, Darling, why we haven't taken Diana out of that wretched school yet?" Mr. Barry flipped a page in the paper. 'We could send her to Paris this instant and get a head start."

A look of horror flashed across her face.

"Absolutely not, William," Mrs. Barry said sharply. Diana felt the brief lightheadedness that had come on rather suddenly dissipate. "What will people say when they find out she's dropped out of school? They'll come up with absurd conclusions. No, I'll not have that smear for our family." For once, Diana was grateful at her mother's severe tendency to worry about the family name. "Diana will finish school in Avonlea and then go to Paris as planned."

"If you insist," Mr. Barry grunted. "But you're only coddling her, Eliza. She may want to stay and finish in Avonlea but she is just a child and doesn't understand the big picture."

"Father-" Diana was shushed by his finger being held up as a signal for her to cease talking.

""I suppose you might have a point," Mrs. Barry said stiffly. "But this isn't about what Diana wants. The people in this town talk, William. I would have thought you would have noticed by now."

"I'm well aware, Eliza.

"Don't you remember the scandal between Prissy Andrews and Mr. Phillips? Don't you recall some of the nasty things people said about her? The Andrews barely recovered!" Mrs. Barry slammed her teacup down in a spout of anger. It was then she became mindful of the fact that Diana and the lingering maid were staring at her (the maid immediately lowered her head and left). As if shoving down her embarrassment, she pretended no such thing just happened.

"I suppose you're proud of yourself, aren't you?" Mr. Barry was unimpressed by his wife's display.

"Might I be excused?" Diana didn't wait for permission; rather she pushed her bowl away, pushed her chair back in place and went upstairs to her room where she could have some time to think.


	6. Chapter 6

**I made a slight change to Jerry's family. He's the middle kid but in this, since im not following s3, he's the oldest at 16**

**Alex and Sandie are 15**

**Ella is 13**

**Max is 10**

**Charlie is 7 and Alice is 6**

**not really important but just incase you guys were wondering**

"You're welcome. Au revoir, Diana," he bid her farewell; grinning. It was most difficult not to when a lady like Diana was around him. She just brought out his happiness. A gentle breeze brought forth the sweet smell of her hair to his nose and he appreciated it for as long as he could.

She was much shorter than he was, even shorter than Anne. Her head only went up to his shoulders; she had to look up to meet his eyes.

"Goodbye, Jerry." Was he imagining, was exhaustion and hunger creeping up on him and misleading his senses or...or was she blushing? Her face was tinged, like one of the falling leaves.

Their eyes locked for a split second, mesmerized by each other's features. Or, so it was for him.

Diana was the first to break, to his dismay. She coughed discreetly under her breath, stepping back all of the sudden in a sort of flustered way he'd seen Anne do. It was then he was able to comprehend just how close in proximity they had been. It was awfully close for two people that weren't courting. He swallowed thickly.

Her mouth was moving but nothing was coming out except for heavy breathing and awkward noises.

"I-"

"Have a good night," she said quickly. "I have to get going. Mother must be worried."

Jerry did not want to be the cause of getting her into any trouble. "Of course," he said with understanding. He was privately amazed he spoke those words without messing up. "I shall see you tomorrow, yes?"

"Tomorrow is Saturday." He'd forgotten. A part of him was saddened, as it meant she would most likely not be with Anne; which also meant he would not see her. Her weekends were spent doing, what Anne dubbed as "the most horrifically boring work one could ever be forced to do." He wasn't quite certain what that work was, but it must not have been good if it upset Anne. "Mother has a busy weekend planned ahead. I'm afraid I won't be available to see the Cuthbert's horse until next week, perhaps."

"Oh," he inwardly winced at how _disappointed _his voice sounded. That was purely accidental, it wasn't even supposed to come out. "That is okay. I won't keep you any longer. Have a good weekend, Diana."

"You too, Jerry," she said kindly. "Don't work too hard, okay?" She looked like she was about to say something else, before a wave of hesitance washed over her face and she thought better of it.

He stood there, rooted in that spot, watching her become less and less visible as she moved further into the woods, past the trees. She only stopped once, to wave shyly back at him then continued on. His brain registered her action too late for him to wave back.

He couldn't keep the silly grin off his face; ecstasy was bubbling up and boiling over so much that he didn't quite know what to do with himself. He'd had his first real conversation with Diana, without Anne's presence to be of interruption. Prior to this, there had been tidbits here and there, the first time being when he complimented her-he meant it, too. Since he never went to school and spent a lot of his time helping the Cuthbert's and his own family, he hadn't been exposed to a lot of girls-unless it counted when he had to go into town but even that was scarce-Diana truly was the most beautiful one he'd ever seen.

_And will be the most beautiful one I'll ever see for the rest of time _

His hand-he'd leave it unwashed for as long as he could-it was still pleasantly tingling from when they grasped hands. Oh, how he dearly wanted to relive that moment. Her hand was tiny in comparison to his own, yet it fit perfectly. It was like it was meant to be.

_I think I'm spending too much time around Anne _

He wondered if her ears, by chance, picked up on his erratically beating heart. Overcome with an emotion he didn't recognize the very moment when they made eye contact (not just once, but twice, he might add), it began to race faster than he had ever experienced.

Mid-step, he came to a realization.

He was just as smitten for Diana, as Anne was to Gilbert.

Or, maybe it was worse. Quite frankly, he was unfamiliar with these affections; perhaps he should ask Anne-

No, he shook his head at the thought. That might not go over well. He didn't want to cause an unnecessary rift between her and Diana. Besides, she was dealing with her own crisis over Gilbert and studying for Queens _and _helping him learn. This would just add more to her plate that she ought to not be thinking about.

He sighed, kicking at the dirt.

_Anne could help me understand this. I do not know what to do without her _

Diana's distant footsteps were long gone. She was probably close to, if not already, out of the woods by now. What was he doing? Maman would be questioning why it took him longer than usual to get home.

He set off; taking his cap off his head and running his hand through his hair, which had grown a tad moist from being left under the hat all day since this morning.

The crisp leaves crunched beneath his shoes as he walked absentmindedly; he bent down as necessary to get past a half broken down tree. He could understand why Anne and Diana admired the outdoors so much. It was very pretty this time of year as it was during the winter, once you got past the frigid temperatures.

Jerry thought back to when he'd seen a sight for sore eyes; Diana _skipping. _It was a mundane action to some, nothing that would be worth talking about. But to him, it invoked a sense of awe; not because her skipping was particularly spectacular, but it was how she looked while doing it.

Never had he seen her looking so _free_ before. It was complex to explain, he didn't think it was possible to do if asked. She was just...different. A good different. She acted so stuffy sometimes, especially when she and Anne had those tea parties where they tried to imitate gronn up ladies. Most notably, her face was split into the widest she ever wore. It was nothing short of breathtaking. _I've never seen anything like it_, he thought happily. If only _he_ could be the one to make her smile like that. If he only lived for the purpose of making Diana Barry smile, that was a life well lived.

Was this something Anne would consider to be 'romantical'?

_Anne thinks everything is 'romantical'_, he rolled his eyes good-naturedly.

His family's tiny house was coming into view. On the outside, all seemed rather quiet and calm, an unusual sight for his family. From dawn until night when they were all tucked into their beds, the Baynard household was bustling with energy.

His younger brothers must have been helping their father chop down wood. Although since he was so young and too tiny to lift the axe, Charlie wasn't _actually_ helping but he liked to accompany his big brothers and father and watch them do it.

As soon as he entered the home, he was pounced on by his youngest sister, Alice. She squealed excitedly at his return, wrapping her arms around his middle. As a result, Jerry nearly toppled over from the unexpected impact

"Jerry! Maman, he's back! Jerry's back!"

Her voice was filled with happiness; Jerry did not reciprocate her sentiment. "_Alice!_" he muttered his frustration in French, of which she did not understand as of now. "What are you doing? You saw me this morning before I left." He raised his eyebrows, sending her the same look their father gave to her during the times she was in need of correction.

"That was _ages_ ago," there was a hint of a whine to her tone. "I missed you."

His face softened and his heart warmed. She meant well, he knew. "I know. Just be careful next time, alright? You're getting to big to just jump at me.

"No, I'm not," she said stubbornly crossing her arms over her chest.

"Alice," Mrs. Baynard held her by the shoulders, gently guiding her back toward the kitchen, or what was supposed to be the kitchen area. "Leave Jerry alone. I would assume he's tired after a long day working."

Now that it was mentioned, Jerry's muscles did ache and if he had the chance of resting, he would have fallen asleep. Perhaps after dinner. He didn't want to risk leaving the task to his mother. "I'll play a game with you later, how does that sound?" he bent down to Alice's height.

She rubbed her chin, mocking their father, pondering thoughtfully. "Okay!" she burst out and threw her tiny arms around his neck, squeezing him tightly and then rushing off back to the kitchen where she (presumably) had been.

Mrs. Baynard smiled softly at the display. Jerry had a knack for dealing with his siblings, it came easily as being the eldest of them.

"How are you feeling?" Jerry asked, keeping his voice low. He made sure Alice was occupied or else she would've pestered them with questions. "Any better from yesterday?"

He noticed his maman's eyes were a little sunken, a little puffy with dark circles below. She must not have slept well.

"I'm fine," Mrs. Baynard smiled but it didn't meet her eyes. "You mustn't worry, Jerry."

It started a week ago, maybe two. His maman's energy just dropped and so did her appetite; she let her children eat whatever rations were left on her plate. Jerry was sure he caught her coming back inside after vomiting, however, there was no evidence other then suspicion.

Mrs. Baynard wiped her face. It was sweaty, Jerry knew she hadn't done anything that could've caused her to perspire, not in this weather.

"Maman, sit down," he placed a hand on her shoulder, anxiously. "Are you dizzy? Shall I fetch Père?"

"No, no," Mrs. Baynard gripped his forearm, then she let go. "You'll worry him, cher. Let us worry when we cross that bridge. I'm sure it's just a passing cold."

There was something in which the way she said it made him sure she wasn't convinced. _That_ right there stuck an ounce of fear into his veins.

"But, maman," he was going to protest. Mrs. Baynard gestured to Alice. His words died on his tongue and he obeyed.

She pushed some of his hair to the side, placing her hand on his cheek. "I hope today wasn't too tiring for you, Cher."

"No," he replied. He still wanted to get answers, but it didn't seem very likely that would happen. "It was fine. Miss Cuthbert gave me some of the soup she fixed for lunch. It was very good."

"That's wonderful. Did you thank her?"

"Yes, of course."

Mrs. Baynard hummed, adjusting her son's clothes. "Good. I wouldn't want them to think we send you over there with no manners."

He chuckled. "Where are Ella and Sandie?" He didn't hear their fits of girlish laughter or see them dancing together. Helpful they were not, although what a show they could be sometimes.

"I've sent them into town. I'm in need of some more thread to patch up a blanket."

His maman's blanket had ripped, just as luck would have it with the cold weather approaching. It seemed she was in need of it now more than ever, with the sickness she was suffering from.

"Do we have enough for that?" Jerry worried.

Mrs. Baynard must have been thinking along the same lines. "I believe so. I've told Sandie to find the cheapest one possible, God willing she does."

Jerry smiled half-heartedly. It wasn't fair that she had gone without a proper blanket; he tried to give her his own but she wouldn't hear of it.

_I should be more thankful, God has given us more than what others have. We're only as poor we perceive. He will bless us, we just have to have faith _

"I hope she does," he said.

Mrs. Baynard kissed his cheek. She went to retrieve a canteen of water and handed it to him. "Would you mind taking this out to your father?"

"Of course," he'd been about to take his coat off.

"I've reminded him every day this week to remember it but he's forgotten everytime and just comes running back like a madman. I swear he would lose his head if he didn't me around."

Jerry laughed. He went around to the back of their house and listened for the sound of wood chopping. He followed it and found his brothers and father. Mr. Baynard was hunched over, taking a short break. He brightened up when he noticed Jerry.

Charlie sat upon what was once a tree, now a stump, swinging his legs merrily.

"JERRY!" Charlie cheered and went to hug his legs.

Max, his third younger brother, paused to roll his eyes. "Why do they always have to do that?" he asked Alex, the second oldest brother. He was referring to both Charlie and Alice. "They don't do that to us." There was no string to his words.

Jerry gave the canteen to his father, who gave his thanks and took a long drink. "Peut-être qu'ils m'aiment plus," Jerry said teasingly. "Maman does."

Max stuck out his tongue. He was punched in the shoulder by Alex. "Get back to work," Alex scolded. "We're never going to get this done if you don't stop dilly dallying."

Max groaned. "Can't Jerry help us?"

"No," came the voices of Mr. Baynard and Alex in unison.

"Jerry has to cook dinner," Mr. Baynard said. "And he's worked all day."

"He probably doesn't get a break either, besides lunch," Alex pointed out.

That was...half of the truth. The Cuthbert's weren't really picky about that kind of thing so long as he made the effort. They were very kind and Jerry was grateful to have them and not someone else, who might have a different mindset.

"You're right. I'm sorry," Max said, ashamed. Jerry ruffled his hair, even though his brother disliked that.

"You're forgiven. I'll go start dinner," Jerry said. He got nods of acknowledgment. "Do you want to help me?" he addressed Charlie. It would give him something to do than just sitting.

Charlie perked up. "Yes, please," he beamed.

"Charlie's helping me with dinner," Jerry said after they came back.

"How so?" Mrs. Baynard was sitting down, appearing worn out.

"I think I'll let him peel the potatoes," Jerry searched for the smallest one.

"Are you sure that's wise, Jerry?" Mrs. Baynard frowned, nervous at the thought of Charlie being near anything sharp. "I don't want him to cut himself."

"He won't," Jerry told her. "I'll be right there with him." As soon as he found a suitable potato, he grabbed one of their knives and used the firmest voice he could muster.

"Now you have to be very careful with this knife. It's sharp. Just do what I do." He started to peel. "Don't go too fast or you might get cut. And make sure your hands are dry."

Charlie listened to his big brother, putting on a 'serious' face and nodding when appropriate.

"Do you understand?" Jerry asked at the end of his lecture.

"Yes," Charlie took the knife and potato from Jerry's hand. Jerry had to stop himself from taking it right back. Charlie was a little choppy; he had to be told twice to slow down but didn't do too bad. There was no immediate medical attention needed for any injuries, though, that was good.

Jerry rummaged through their food rack for anything else to add. The cheese that was there earlier in the week was gone, leaving only the bread.

"The cheese was moldy," Mrs. Baynard said, as if reading his thoughts. "I should have salted it sooner." She was upset by her mistake.

"No matter," he said positively. His stomach growled. "We'll have potatoes and bread. I'll cook it under the fire for us."

"I wanna help!" Charlie insisted.

"After you finish peeling the potatoes, you can," Jerry promised.

"Can I help too?" Alice asked pleadingly.

"No," Mrs. Baynard answered, causing Alice to frown. "Jerry said he would play a game with you after dinner. You helped him with dinner last time, it's Charlie's turn."

Alice scowled.

"We're back!" Ella said in a sing-song voice, parading through with a woven basket dangling from her elbow. Sandie came in behind her, boots thumping on the hard floor.

"Were you able to find it?" Mrs. Baynard inquired.

Sandie and Ella's face fell. "Err, no," Sandie said apologetically. "We're sorry, maman. Ella and I looked our hardest, we assure you."

Mrs. Baynard pulled her girls into a hug. "It's quite alright. It's not like I haven't gone without before."

"Jerry!" Ella's basket fell to the floor and she gave her big brother a hug. She pulled back, holding him at arms length. "You'll never believe what happened while we were out," she said in a whisper that wasn't actually a whisper. Jerry guessed she was holding back a squeal and humored her anyway.

"What?" he whispered back. Sandie rolled her eyes and their mother shook her head fondly.

"Yeah, what?" Charlie, feeling left out, forced his way in between his older siblings, glancing up at them curiously.

Whatever Ella had been prepared to say was put on hold. "Nothing," she let go of Jerry's arms. "What are you cooking?"

"Potatoes under the fire and bread."

"Don't let mine get too burnt, please," she requested.

"Ella, don't be so picky," Sandie scolded her.

"I'm not! Don't be so bossy, Sandie!" Ella put her hands on her hips.

Jerry regarded them with amusement.

"Girls," Charlie muttered.

They were all seated around the table, all of his siblings and his parents were engaged in small talk. Jerry didn't say much. His stomach was in knots which took away any desire for food consumption.

His mind was flashing back to his brief talk with Diana, of how her face was positively _radiating_ and-

"Cher, what is the matter? You've hardly touched your dinner," Mrs. Baynard frowned. Her concern caught the attention of his siblings and father. Reaching a hand over, she felt his forehead. He didn't pull away. "You aren't with a fever. Is your stomach bothering you? Should your father and I go have a talk with the Cuthbert's about you taking a break for a while?"

"I'm not very hungry," he admitted. "May I go lie down?"

"It's a long way until lunch," Mr. Baynard warned them. They didn't have enough food for all three meals so the family only own ate lunch and dinner.

"I know," Jerry insisted. He pushed his plate toward the middle. "I'm tired from working, that's all. I just need some rest." In truth, it was far more difficult than being overworked. More than it was possible to explain.

"Well, if you're sure," his parents shared a glance. They permitted him to leave. But they weren't happy about it.

Jerry thanked them and went to the other side of the room, snuggling under his blanket. He laid there, hands behind his head while his family continued their talk, albeit softer this time.

He couldn't wait until the time came where he got to show Diana one of the Cuthbert's horses. Who was he kidding? He couldn't wait until he got to see Diana again. What a terrible wait he had to endure, the entire weekend before that would happen.

_Ugh, I'm starting to sound like Anne_

He rolled his eyes at the irony. She'd definitely rubbed off on him. _But_, he had to admit that it wasn't really all that bad. Not after all she had done for him.

_I'll read to her tomorrow-no, Monday! I'll do it when Diana's around _

Was this a sin? Jerry really did want to thank Anne and he did want to show her how he'd progressed but...allowing Diana to see to where she might even be proud of him too was an advantage.

His cheeks were awfully warm. That warm sensation rushed through his body whenever he thought of Diana or spoke to her. Had she taken notice of his blushing earlier? Was he glaringly obvious? That was all he needed. Would her first instinct be to laugh in his face? He liked to think otherwise; that she wasn't _that_ cruel. What did he know, however? He barely knew her, as unfortunate as it was.

_You can get to know her_

It seemed unlikely to work. They hardly spoke a word when Anne was around and the thought of meeting her parents with such a request made him queasy. He'd heard Anne loudly complaining about the Barry parents, particularly when she'd accidentally gotten Diana drunk and was forbidden to see her. Mrs. Cuthbert had grown tired of listening to it and threatened her with punishment should she do it again.

_You can try _

_Ask her_

_She can only say yes or no_

Jerry didn't want to think about that, about how motified and heartbroken he would undoubtedly feel if Diana rejected his offer. Their friendship, or whatever this was, wouldn't recover. He wouldn't be able to withstand the awkwardness that would come around every time she visited Anne. _I shouldn't think like this. I haven't even done anything yet. _

He turned to the other side, facing the wall. Doubts were coming to the surface. He suddenly had second thoughts about his earlier his talk with Diana in the woods.

He ought not to be out there with her so openly where prying eyes would take his intentions the wrong way. He dreaded to think what irrational theories the townsfolk would draw up; something as vile as the thought that he intended to make love to her. Mrs. Lynde would be skittering up to Green Gables to tell Mrs. Cuthbert what she'd heard in an instant. And to think of the awful things Diana would be called. Her family name would be ruined. There went any opportunity she would have had for a perfect life. Jerry refused to put her through that.

He had to be sensible. No matter what. It didn't matter if she enjoyed his company or they'd laughed together or-

_No._ He needn't think like that. It was only going to get him into trouble. _Stop thinking like that.. _

This was foolish, highly irregular of them. What would people say, what would people say about Diana behind her back? She was practically a princess, living in a house big enough for her family and more; had hired help and nice clothes that weren't just for church.

What would they say after seeing a girl like Diana spending time with a poor farm boy like him?


	7. Chapter 7

**I decided to rewrite this chapter. Some parts are the same from the last edit while others are different **

* * *

Diana's fingers were stiff and achy; she winced every time it was needed to use her slate pencil. Over the weekend, while her classmates were free to do as they pleased, she was cooped up inside, seated at the grand piano when she wasn't swept away for lessons or doing any chores. Her father announced that he was hosting a business party and as a treat of entertainment, Diana was to perform a piece on the piano. It was fairly advanced, requiring more skill than she was used to. As there was no way to decline without her father erupting into a raging fit, Diana accepted the inevitable. While Minnie May got to sit around and play with her expensive dolls, Diana was forlorn; dreading the upcoming Friday where she would be the center of the room for all of the attention to be on here.

Her stomach churned every time she thought about it. She wanted to vomit. Performing for her family was one thing but a group of strangers? That was horrifying. She had no way out of it, not even if she became deathly ill. She could vividly imagine her mother yanking her by the sleeve and forcing her to play.

With that in mind, Diana listened to her mother fret over the music choice, whether or not her daughter might mess up. She was ordered to practice as much as possible. And so she did. But even with her mind set on trying to perfect, it still wandered back to Jerry. His radiating smile, the way his eyes crinkled and his offer to help her over her fear of horses. It was incredibly sweet of him. Every once and awhile, had her parents paid attention, they would've seen a beaming smile on their daughter. Although they might not have noticed that particular instance, they did know that Diana was becoming ridiculously distracted. She was typically able to drown out any outside thoughts and noises to concentrate. This time, however, the simplest of notes seemed impossible. Mrs. Barry was noticeably flustered and Mr. Barry pronounced his frustration multiple times. He warned her she'd better be more proficient by the time of the party or else she would be forbidden from any leisurely activities for a long time.

She didn't take his threat lightly.

Diana rubbed at her eyes. She hadn't slept well the night before, not when she was overwhelmed by thoughts of the party and Jerry. She still wasn't sure if accepting his offer was the correct thing to do. Anne was going to be home and she would wonder why Diana was there, not to see her but Jerry. To Anne's knowledge, Diana and Jerry only spoke less than a handful of times, all in her presence. She wasn't aware of that time they shared in the woods last week-Diana hadn't planned on mentioning it to her.

The lesson that Miss Stacy had prepared was dull. Everyone was having trouble staying on task and not daydreaming. Even Anne, who always had endless praise for her teacher and her modernized ways of learning, unlike Mr. Phillips, was emitting a yawn or two.

It couldn't have been the weather, not the yearly spring fever that Miss Stacy always pretended to scold them about. Whatever it was, Diana was yearning for the chance to get up and stretch her legs. Just like her fingers, her legs hadn't been able to properly move since Friday, with being kept in the same position for hours.

Diana took a second to glance at the boys side from across the room. She noted that Gilbert was doing it again, staring at Anne when he wrongly assumed no one was looking (though Diana was doing just that out of the corner of her eye). Anne wasn't doing any worthy to be watched besides fingering her braid, loosening the hairs in that spot. Yet, Gilbert was mesmerized. Diana knew it wasn't right of her to not only be ignoring her teacher and to be keeping an eye on a boy so closely. Someone might take it the wrong way. That was all she needed; for her reputation to be tainted by an innocent action.

"Gilbert, are you listening?"

Gilbert jerked his head in the direction of their teacher, spluttering unintelligible. His science book hadn't been opened yet. He cleared his throat, uncomfortable by the snickering he received from a select few. Anne, wondering what was going on, turned back. He was deliberately acting as though she wasn't. "Sorry, ma'am, can you repeat that?"

Miss Stacy pursed her lips. She wasn't impressed but Diana could decipher that she was also puzzled by Gilbert's odd behavior. He was one of her best students, one of the few that didn't have to be reprimanded or told to stay on task.

Didn't she see it? The attraction between them? How was it, that despite being two of the students of Avonlea school, two of the smartest people Diana had come across, were so oblivious to the obvious? It was right there yet neither saw it.

Or they didn't want to.

"I said it was your turn to read. Paragraph sixteen. Nice and loud."

"Yes ma'am," Gilbert repeated, embarrassed by his slip up.

Miss Stacy dismissed them to lunch early that day, on the condition that once they returned they would be more cooperative and participate.

The girls decided to stay indoors that day. The wind had picked up a little which meant that a picnic with a pretty, flowery tablecloth would be inconvenient. The group went to their hideaway in the corner, the tablecloth was used as a way of privacy. The girls and boys stayed on their respective sides of the schoolhouse. Anne had expressed prior to this that it didn't make much sense to keep them divided and questioned how they were supposed to successfully court if it was considered improper to associate. Diana was told that it didn't have to make sense, the rules were put in place for a reason and thus, they, children that were to honor their father and mother, were required to obey without wondering why.

Diana sat down next to Anne. Josie was directly across from Anne. They all knew that Josie probably didn't appreciate this, as she typically didn't ever want to get too close to Anne Shirley. But for once, she didn't raise a fuss.

"What did you girls do over the weekend?" Ruby asked them as she daintily undid her lunch pail. Diana didn't fail to catch the subtle way her eyes would dart in Moody's direction. "Mother hired someone to give me etiquette lessons. She says I'll need them before I go to Queens."

Diana dealt with that familiar pang of jealousy that desperately wished she would attend Queens, too.

"Did you learn to walk with a book on your head?" Tillie giggled. "I've always wanted to learn."

"Not yet. But I will." They burst into quiet giggles.

Then they directed the next question to Diana. "You're taking etiquette lessons, aren't you, Diana?" Tillie asked her innocently.  
"Yes," she said quietly.

"Do you like them? I've heard depending on who you get, they can be awfully dull," Jane added.

Josie side eyed her with a touch of arrogance. She never did manage to have a warm relationship with Billy's sisters and Diana had a feeling that was mutual. "Haven't you heard? Childhood is over. I'm sorry you find it dismaying now that it isn't acceptable for you to run around like a boy."

A part of Diana felt sick. She recalled when her mother had said the very same thing, back when things were much more simple than they were right now.

Ruby and Tillie were wide-eyed, anxiously anticipating Jane's next move.

"I'm sure I wouldn't like it, either," Anne chose the wrong moment to speak up on Jane's behalf. 'I don't understand its importance. It's rather demeaning. I'm sure the boys aren't taking any lessons."

"Anne..." Diana went to intervene but as usual, Anne was being stubborn and wanted to do things her own way.

"Shouldn't we be learning skills that will help us in life?" Anne posed the question. She was only given stares in response so she continued. "We are more than what our parents are trying to mold us to be. We don't have to be the perfect wives or even wives at all! We can be whatever we want to be!"

Diana lowered her eyes so she didn't have to see Anne's smile drop at the lack of enthusiasm.

"Mother said you'd be strange," Josie stared at her. "She she was right."

Anne was visibly embarrassed. Sinking down, she opened up her own lunch pail and began eating. Diana felt sorry for her. Furthermore, she didn't appreciate how Josie made it a point to purposefully be rude to Anne on a daily basis. "What did you do, Jane?" Diana thought she better do something before they would have to recruit Miss Stacy over to keep Josie and Anne from attacking each other. "How was your weekend?"

"Terrible," Jane said matter-of-factly. "Billy was home all weekend."

"What's wrong with that?" Josie asked indignantly.

"He's a pig, that's what's wrong," Jane said sourly. "He invited Charlie over and they left the parlor a right mess! I've never seen mother so angry at him before. She's never angry at Billy." At this, she grinned.

"Had my parents lived and had another child, I would surely imagine he would be nothing like Billy," Anne got over her momentary shame and told the group. "I would feel tremendous shame if he was."

"Anne," Diana nudged her, gesturing to Jane. "That was rude of you."

Jane shrugged. "Billy's rude all the time."

Clearly unhappy with the bashing of her future betrothed, Josie announced, as if it were imperative that they know, "Mother bought me a new dress." Not much was said in regards to that. Out of politeness, Ruby asked what color it was. Tillie said she was lucky, her mother only bought her new dresses at Christmas. It left Josie quite miffed that the conversation hadn't gone at all the way she wanted. "It's from the States, you know," she said. "It came with a hat."

"What kind of hat?" Now Tillie was a tad more interested.

Satisfied that someone was taking the time to care, Josie leaned in closer, motioning for the rest of the group to do the same. "You mustn't tell a soul," she warned.

They nodded, enticed by the secrecy.

Josie glanced around to make sure no one was evesdropping. "Mother bought me a grown up outfit," she revealed.

They exploded-quietly, of course-into gasps and whispers of disbelief.

"A grown up outfit?" Tillie echoed. "My mother would never- how on earth did you ever persuade her?"

"I didn't have to," Josie twirled a piece of her blonde hair. She was smiling smugly. "She said it was high time a girl of my age owned one. I'm going to be sixteen very soon, you know."

"She just bought it for you? Just like that?" Anne was amazed. Miss Cuthbert would never allow it. She would've been astonished at the mere idea. "Oh, Josie, you're very lucky."

"I know," Josie said haughtily.

Diana wasn't sure if her mother would dare to forgo social expectations and permit her to own, let alone wear, such an outfit while underage. She doubted so; especially not after the spat her mother and father got into at dinner on Friday about the possibility of taking her out of school early- her mother didn't talk to her father for a few hours afterwards.

Mrs. Pye was different than her mother, she remembered. A peculiar woman, that while she stayed with tradition and the rigid rules that went along with it, she wasn't above doing what she wanted; even if it wasn't completely acceptable.

"When do you suppose you'll wear it?" Ruby's voice was barely above a whisper. "Perhaps the dance at the county fair?" She suggested excitedly.

"No!" Poor Ruby looked crushed at being talked so so harshly. "Do you want me to cause a scandal? Mother thinks I'm fine as long as there are a few adjustments made. I, however, will wait until Queens where it is appropriate."

Ruby nodded with uncertainty.

Soon after her impromptu outburst, the energetic talk of Mrs. Pye's bold fashion choice for her daughter died down. The group stayed in relative silence until Anne broke it.

"Would you like to come over after school?" she invited Diana. "Marilla was making a wonderful pie this morning. I'm sure she would be willing to share some."

"I believe I can," Diana agreed. "But I cannot stay too long. I have to practice. I'm playing the piano at Father's business party on Friday night."

The girls, minus Josie, were impressed. Diana felt a little self conscious. "That's marvelous, Diana!" Anne praised her. "You will be magnificent!"

"Oh, Anne," Diana blushed. "You're exaggerating."

"Diana, how you possibly underestimate yourself? I've heard you play."

"I'm not that good," Diana protested. "Father gave me a piece that's very advanced and I'm worried. What if I mess up?"

"I'd be worried , too," Ruby confided. "Messing up in front of all those people would be so embarassing. Imagine the humiliation your parents will feel. What if your dad is so embarrassed he quits his job!" Ruby caught the pointed look that Anne gave her and quickly retracted her words. "I mean, Anne is right. You'll do great, Diana."

Diana could only smile weakly.


	8. Chapter 8

The sunlight was warm on her back, it took away the chill she was feeling when that gust of wind came out of nowhere. It was brighter than it had been earlier that morning, with a few clouds lingering. All in all, it was much more bearable than around lunch time.

Diana walked closely with Anne down the long, dusty path they always take together. Anne is talking her ear off-Diana is ashamed to say she wasn't as attentive this time around. It was possible that she noticed, but keeping anything she wanted to say to herself. Diana is grateful that, just this once, she was allowed to withhold without being interrogated.

"Diana," Anne suddenly spoke.

Although than again, Anne wasn't exactly known for shutting up.

"Have you begun to think about your birthday?"

She hadn't. It was still early. "Anne, my birthday isn't for a few more months," she said.

This information didn't bring down Anne's mood. "Oh, but Di, it's best to plan early!"

"I suppose," Diana said uneasily.

It was a shame that the date she should be thrilled for the most, the starting point to womanhood and of becoming an adult, was something she dreaded the most.

"I've been thinking about this since June. We absolutely must prepare a proper send off, for this is your last birthday in Avonlea. It must be magnificent! This is a special occasion, after all." She paused to think, looking thoughtful. Then she beamed. "Oh, I know! I shall ask Marilla to have the party at Green Gables. Oh, that would be splendid, don't you think? We could invite all the girls, perhaps Moody and Charlie as well so Jerry isn't so lonesome."

She was chattering without stopping for a breath. Diana's head snapped in her direction at the mention of his name. Her eyes widened for a brief moment. She hadn't thought Anne would-

"You want to invite Jerry?" her voice went slightly higher. She did not mean to sound so...so against the idea. On the contrary, she did not mind it and hoped she didn't sound too welcoming by the idea.

'We don't have to," Anne was none the wiser to her feelings. However, there was a hint of a frown on her lips. "But Jerry will most likely be working that day. It would be awfully rude to have a party and forbid him from attending."

"O-oh, yes. Of course," Diana nodded. She imagined his beautiful face, grinning cheekily. His clothes would be dirty and stained from working but it didn't matter. He fit right in anyway. Then he'd take her hand into his, kissing the top of it feather-light. And- she licked her lips, exhaling sharply. "I'm not so sure Mother and Father will allow the party anywhere else but our home. You know how picky they can be. In that case, I am not sure it would be wise for Jerry to attend." She inwardly winced.

Anne stopped walking abruptly. "Why is that?" She asked, her tone boarding on testy. "Why shouldn't Jerry come along?"

Diana desperately wanted to dig herself out of the metaphorical hole she was now deeply into. "You know how my parents feel about-about-" she struggled to find the appropriate word.

"Commoners?" Anne finished for her, flatly.

"Yes," Diana admitted. She averted her eyes to avoid seeing the disappointment in Anne's.

"But they allow me to come."

"Yes, but-" how was Diana to explain that her parents weren't keen on Anne coming over either?

"Why am I allowed over and Jerry is not?" Anne was offended on Jerry's behalf. "That is entirely unfair."

"I know," Diana admitted. "But Jerry's different..." she trailed off, not wanting to finish her sentence.

Anne was stunned into silence, a rarity. She understood what Diana had avoided saying. "It's because he's poor," she deduced. She was most definitely not happy. "You're excluding him for something he can't control!"

"I'm not," Diana defended herself, feeling attacked. "It's my parents. You know I would never do that."

"But you're not doing anything about it," Anne pointed out. "If you really wanted to do something about it you would stand up to them. You're only enabling them, Di."

"It isn't that simple," Diana tried to keep a hold on her tongue so she wouldn't blurt out anything she would regret later. "You know as well as I do that my parents won't listen. There isn't anything I can do."

"But this is your party, surely they would understand," Anne protested.

Diana began to walk again, keeping her head facing the ground. The shame is great, she can only pray that Jerry never heard any of this conversation. He would be devastated. "I've already told you there isn't anything I can do. I can't stand up to them. They won't listen to me. To them, I'm just a silly girl with my head up in the clouds. If I step a toe out of line, I could be thrown into finishing school sooner." Anne's face deepened into a frown. "I don't want to risk it. As much as I wouldn't mind Jerry being there," much more than you know, "I know Mother and Father would be furious."

Anne begrudgingly accepted this.

"You can take some cake to Jerry," Diana offered as a solution. "I'm sure he would appreciate it."

"Perhaps," Anne agreed, only half heartedly.

Their conversation dissolved into a lengthy silence. Diana didn't know what to say, if she should say anything. Anne was still upset, rightfully so. But she had to understand. This wasn't personal; it was a stab to the heart for her to even think about it, let alone say them out loud.

It hurts worse knowing what can never be

Diana had been wary to speak of it. Quite frankly, she wished she didn't have to. Anne should have known; she'd met her parents and was aware that their beliefs didn't align with hers (that was another subject for another time). She needn't reacted so harshly, not to Diana. The decision wasn't to be made by her. Her parents had the final say, whether she agreed with it or not.

Than again, Anne had grown to do more than just tolerate Jerry. He'd become a brother of some sorts to her, of whom she fiercely loved and vowed to protect. How could Diana argue with that?

"I'm sorry," she said quietly. "You know I'd never be so superficial."

They were getting near to the point where they typically separate to their respective homes. Inwardly, Diana was counting down the days until they were to part for the last time. She would rather undergo anything but that. For now, however, that wasn't what her thoughts were consumed by.

"I know," Anne sighed. "But Diana, how can you possibly stand by and let them act so grotesque? I just don't understand."

Diana felt a flare of anger. She can't-she shouldn't let Anne speak so boldly of her family as if they were monsters. They weren't perfect, they were terribly flawed. But she couldn't just sit back and allow her friend to insult them.

However, that little voice in the back of her mind thought that Anne was right-she should have spoken up on more than one occasion. She should have voiced her opinion.

And where will that have gotten me? She thought bitterly. Not anywhere I want to be.

She didn't want to be there anymore, not when she was being interrogated for something that was nowhere near her fault.

She didn't want to lash out at Anne or make a scene.

She didn't want him to know about this.

She had to leave.

"I've suddenly remembered," she cut off Anne mid-lecture, "my mother needs me home."

"But you said-"

"I know," Diana replied quickly. "But I'd forgotten. I promised mother I would be home earlier to get a head start on my lessons. Between my homework and practicing for father's party, I've been neglecting my responsibilities."

By some grace of God, Anne looked like she realized her error-realizing that she became angry at the wrong person. "If this is about what I said, I'm sorry. I really am, but you must understand-"

"It isn't," Diana plastered on a smile, one that fooled her parents quite often. "Now you must excuse me, I'm needed elsewhere. Surely you understand?"

Anne shifted the books in her hands, searching for the appropriate words. "Of course," she said at last. "I should be going home as well. Marilla will need my help to cook supper."

"Well, goodbye," Diana spat out awkwardly. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Yes," Anne said hesitantly. "Goodbye."

This was where they would do their chant while holding onto each other's necklaces, but Diana can't bring herself to look into Anne's eyes.

Diana started to go her usual way, glancing back behind her only when she was sure Anne wasn't looking back at her. It was when she saw Anne's figure disappearing into the trees that she changed her direction. If she waited long enough, Anne would be far enough away that she could follow at a distance without her ever finding out. She'd been through the forest many times to know where she should step and where she shouldn't.

She kicked a lone pebble, sighing forlornly.

It was never her intention to behave so impudent. Anne should have understood that, for as long as they've known each other. When ever did Diana admonish Anne during the times she was tactless of other people's feelings? Hmm?

But this wasn't about who was worse.

Even though right then, Diana wasn't feeling at all merciful and if she was in the correct mindset, she would have been appalled at what she was thinking about her dear friend.

I cannot believe she said that! She knows I don't agree with everything. I just-ugh!

Diana refused to be talked down to. Her parents had done that numerous times her entire life..and now Anne, too!

It was absolutely outrageous!

Her mother's voice was in the back of her mind, criticizing her for the way she was acting.

Ladies do not sulk, Diana. Straighten your back. Get that scowl off your face and be pleasant! Your father and I have taught you better than this.

She complied subconsciously.

Before long, Diana knew it was safe and she began to walk toward Green Gables. She needed to hurry if she was going to meet Jerry in time before he was due to return home. What a waste the trip would be, if he was already gone when she arrived. Impulsively, she dropped her books and pushed them underneath a bush, giving it a once over so as to remember. She couldn't afford to dawdle.

So she ran.

Her bow started to become loose; her mother made sure it was positioned tight enough not to come off in her daily movements but that didn't include running. It hung at the back of her neck; if she happened to make any sudden movements it might even fall off completely.

She was not that far when she halted, leaning against a tree for support. Breathing heavily (and most unattractively), she panted; swallowing gasps of air. Beads of sweat rolled down her neck and her cheeks were flushed pink.

I must keep going

This was preposterous...she was going to get caught...she should just go back.

If anyone saw-if she was caught-

Still, she straightened up her posture, she came all this way without backing down so why not finish what she started?

Diana peeked at the seemingly vacant farmland. She didn't hear a sound nor did she see Jerry or the Cuthberts roaming around. She was beginning to feel some doubtfulness. She ought to have put more thought into it, of how she was going to explain her sudden presence to Anne, if they happened to see each other.

She could be inside, making supper with Miss Cuthbert or doing chores. She'd hate to go all the way back for nothing. Her parents, primarily her father, were most likely going to be furious at her for not coming home right away.

She strode across Green Gables, keeping a look out for the Cuthberts or Mrs. Lynde.

Where on earth could he be? He must have gone home. Unless he's in the house-

Jerry's whistling met her ears.

The barn!

Of course! He was usually there, at least, that was where he was typically whenever she came over after school (barring Friday).

Diana crept around the corner, biting on her lower lip. Jerry was curled up in a big stack of hay, reading a book that she couldn't see the title of. He looked to be intrigued by whatever he was reading.

"Hello, Jerry."

She startled him, bringing him out of the stupor he'd fallen into. Jerking so forcefully that he could've snapped a bone in his neck, he jumped to his feet to greet her; all the way he smoothed down his pants and dusted off dirt that was more caked on. She saw his thick book fall into the hay; he did not bother to pick it back up.

"Diana," his tone conveyed his surprise, of what she didn't know. "Hello. I, er, was not sure if you would make it."

"I'm sorry," she kicked at the dirty ground shyly, bobbing her head up to make eye contact but not able to keep it for long. "I was caught up with important matters."

That was two lies now. She felt as dirty as the barn; awfully rotten, she was.

"That is fine." Diana couldn't be sure if he was lying to spare her feelings or not. "I just finished working not too long ago."

She could only nod, trying, she might, to think up something valuable to add.

She had nothing.

"Did something happen on the way here?" he suddenly spoke up to ask her.

She frowned, furrowing her eyebrows. "What do you mean?" she asked self consciously. Was she looking ragged like her mother said?

"Your hair," he gestured to his own head. "It's not like it usually is."

Oh. It was windblown and currently framing her face messily; certainly not an acceptable state for a Barry. Quite honestly, she hadn't noticed. "Oh, yes," she made an attempt to freshen herself up. "It's just the wind." Diana's face went pink in seconds; there was no wind at all. Everything was still. "There was a wind! It was, erm, very brief."

Jerry didn't probe, of which she was grateful.

"Where's Anne?" Diana eagerly changed the subject. "Is she around?"

Jerry shook his head. "No. Mr. and Miss Cuthbert took her into town."

"What for?" If Anne knew ahead of time, she never spoke about it.

"I do not know," Jerry shrugged. "Miss Cuthbert was in a hurry, though, and she told me I could leave early if I wished."

But he didn't. He waited around for her. Her heart fluttered.

"Oh," there was nothing more to say on the matter.

They stood around, stealing glances at one another but not talking. Diana, ridiculously flustered, fiddled with her coat. She had no reason to be this way; although, she supposed that their lack of conversations weren't helping.

Jerry clapped his hands together, clearing his throat. "Shall we?" he asked. "Unless you changed your mind?"

"No," she smiled (although in reality, she would have been fine sitting this one out). "Of course not."

In all her rush of excitement, never did she stop and think about it, the fact that she was going to be physically near it. Diana wasn't about to let him she was actually terrified of the thought.

"I'll be right beside you," he reassured her and she wondered if he saw right through her.

"Okay," she said, toying with the ends of her hair.

Jerry went in front of her, though he did look back to make sure she was following him.

Together, they went back out into the sunshine. Diana squinted her eyes, trailing behind him. They headed over to the stable were the animals were kept. She'd gone in with Anne, but rarely. Her mother worried about her being seen or ruining her clothes so she was forbidden from going in; her mother had even informed Miss Cuthbert about this so there would be no getting around it.

"She's quite large," Diana had seen Belle before and was slightly intimidated by her size. Jerry obviously noticed; she stayed at the doorway while he went in further.

"It's okay," he said. "You don't have to be afraid. Belle won't hurt you. Just put out your hand so she can sniff it so she knows you're friendly. Go on," he added for good measure.

Diana did as she was told, keeping a wary eye on the horse. It blew a puff of air out its nose, nudging her hand with its head.

"She likes you," Jerry smiled.

Diana grinned, showing her teeth. It wasn't as bad as she thought it would be. "She's pretty," she commented.

Jerry's eyes were on her; something told her that he wanted to speak at that moment. He never did. "Yes, she is," he said. "Horses are God's most beautiful creatures, wouldn't you agree?"

"I-yes," she stuttered.

Jerry stroked the horse's back. "I did not care for them until I started working for Mr. Cuthbert."

"Why?" Diana followed his actions. Belle seemed to be enjoying the attention she was receiving.

"My father, he worked with horses when he was my age and said they are hard work. He said they can be quite difficult if they don't like someone."

"'Oh," she said again. She'd never worked a day in her life, much less on a farm with animals.

"Yes," he took his hat off-Diana gazed at him. His hair was worse than on Friday, greasy and sticking up like it had never been combed-he quickly put it back on. "But luckily for me, Mr. Cuthbert's horses are very nice and cooperative."

"That's good," she said.

"Yes," he agreed. There was a pause, then, "Diana, would you like to ride Belle?"

"Excuse me?" she squeaked.

He repeated his question.

'Oh, I don't know about that," she kept shaking her head, "It's getting late and I wouldn't want to get in trouble with the Cuthbert's."

"'That is already taken care of," he smiled. "I asked Mr. Cuthbert for permission this morning. He didn't mind, at all."

Oh

"Oh," her voice was still slightly elevated. "Well, that's great!"

Jerry would've been a fool to have been convinced that all was fine and well. "Diana," his eyes softened, "you don't have to do it if you don't want to. I won't force you."

"I'd rather not," she admitted. "She's not so scary now that I've seen her up close but I don't think I can do it."

"I understand," Jerry told her.

She felt awful for declining, after all, he was being so nice for inviting her. "Perhaps another day," she offered.

"Perhaps," Jerry echoed.

Diana shifted. Now that it was over, she knew it was wrong of her to stay any longer; alone with a boy when someone could easily be given the wrong impression. But she may not get another chance, especially so close...

"Have you decided on a book to read to Anne? Or did you want to write to write her a note instead?"

"I'm going to read something," Jerry said. "Anne gave me Frankenstein to read. Have you read it? It's by Mary Shelley. It's the first book I've ever read." He looked proud of his accomplishment .

"That's wonderful," she felt proud of him as well. "And no, I don't believe I have." It wasn't a book her mother would have approved of, she was sure of that.

"Would you like to borrow it?" he asked.

"You don't mind?" she was unsure.

"If I was, I would not have offered."

"Oh," she'd have to hide it under her matress so as to ensure her mother, or Minnie May if she went snooping in her room, wouldn't find it. "Yes, I'd like that. Thank you, Jerry." She thought back to when she first stumbled upon him. "But you aren't finished, are you? I'd hate to take it while you're in the middle of it."

"Oh, no," he laughed softly, "I'm already done. I was looking for-what did you call it?- an excerpt."

"Oh," she repeated because that was all that could come out of her. "Alright. That sounds good. I'll take it home tonight, if you don't mind."

What a treasured item it was to them both.

"I'll read it in between practicing," her smile faltered a little at the reminder.

"What's wrong?" he sounded worried.

She snapped out of it. "Nothing," she tried to pass it off. "It's nothing serious."

Belle neighed. Jerry searched her eyes. "But it is bothering you. Tell me, Diana, what's wrong?"

She lowered her eyes to her shoes. "It's my parents," she said quietly. "My father is hosting a business party on Friday. I have to play some music on the piano."

"I'm afraid I don't understand. Anne tells me you're very good."

"I'm not," she shook her head. "I'm awfully frightened when I have to play in front of people."

"Can you ask your father if it's okay not to play?" Poor Jerry was trying to be helpful.

"No," she said miserably. "Father would be furious."

Jerry frowned. "That isn't right. If you do not want to play you shouldn't have to."

"I wish I didn't have to but there's nothing I can do," she felt worse now. "I don't know what to do. I'm worried I'll mess up and Mother and Father will be disappointed."

"They shouldn't be." Diana was surprised at how strongly he sounded. "My mother and father would never force my siblings and I to do something we didn't feel comfortable doing."

Your family isn't rich and isn't expected to uphold high standards

Diana flinched. He didn't seem to notice.

"I'm sorry," even though he had no reason to be, he was. Diana saw the genuinity in his eyes.

"Don't be," she felt obligated to tell him. "I suppose I am overreacting. Father has given me an important task and it would be rotten of me to waste time being ungrateful." There were girls that would've adored being given such an opportunity to show off their skills and give off a valuable impression of their family.

Jerry's hand lightly grazed hers, on accident, she was sure. Diana wasn't blind enough that she didn't feel it; the brief touch sent a pleasureful sensation down her back. He swallowed; they both looked away.

"Yes, well," her voice was unnaturally high.

"Err, yes," his face was pink.

"I must be going," she tugged on the end of her coat.

Jerry quickly hid his disappointment. "Oh. Already? You just got here..."

"I know," she said. "But I must practice. Father will keep me up late and Miss Stacy has a test for us tomorrow so I must have time to study."

"I understand," Jerry said.

She frowned, feeling guilty for leaving so soon. "I really am sorry," she added. "I should have came earlier."

"Do not worry about it."

Diana stroked Belle one last time. "Are you going home, too?"

"No. I must wait for the Cuthberts to get back so I can open the gate. Miss Cuthbert told me she has food for me to take home to my family."

"That's nice of her."

"Yes," Jerry gestured to her that they could leave the stable now. Diana went out first. "I am very grateful," he said as he closed the door.

"Did you work for anyone else other than the Cuthberts?"

"No," Jerry said. "Once Anne came to stay, I was finally old enough to start working. I could have started earlier like other children usually do, but my parents didn't want us to."

"If you had started working earlier, when would you have?" Diana clamped her mouth shut as it occurred to her that she was probably asking too many questions.

"Five, I think. Four or five."

Diana couldn't imagine. At four or five, she was an only child and doted upon to the utmost extent. Whatever she wanted, she was given. There was always enough food around and, not only that, the Barry's were tailored new clothes every week. It was difficult to think, that if she were the child of poor parents, she would be forced to work, doing whatever was needed for survival.

"That's very sad," she said quietly.

"It is not all bad. If you get good people to work for, like the Cuthberts, it isn't that bad."

"I suppose so."

Diana was given plenty to think about, that was for sure.


	9. Chapter 9

It was another dreadfully dull lesson. They were in the parlor, seated at the table with their legs crossed (or they should have been. Minnie May was notorious for disobeying that particular order), dutifully listening to Mrs. Rodefer read an excerpt aloud from her thick book she carried everywhere, this time pertaining to a way a lady should condone herself in the public eye. It was a very_ long_ chapter, Diana almost closed her eyes twice during that time, jerking back awake before her teacher lectured her _again_. She'd done it on a previous occasion, when Diana was caught glancing out the window. It was only once, she didn't make it a habit of doing so; but Mrs. Rodefer had been angered by the blatant disregard for the time she was taking out of her day to conduct the lesson. She'd marched straight to Diana's parents, demanding that they instill some respect in their daughter. After she left, Diana was screamed at, threatened by her mother to have a hairbrush taken to her should that ever happen again. Fearful of the punishment that she knew wasn't just a bluff, Diana kept the promise she'd made to her parents and did better after that.

She _had_ to do better.

Out of her peripheral vision, Diana saw that Minnie May wasn't listening at all; she blowing upwards, causing her hair to sway. Every so often, she'd let out a giggle. As the older sister, Diana should have scolded her for her insolent behavior (at the appropriate time, of course. It was hardly polite to interrupt, than they'd both be in trouble). She should have urged her to take it seriously or she'd end up an old spinster. Their mother would just die of shame! Still, Diana couldn't bring herself to. Though it was expected of her, she hardly wished to be there at all, thinking that there were several other things she'd rather be doing if she had a choice in the matter. Piano was even sounding to be a far better option, even with the prospect of her mother watching her every move, criticizing her for the slightest mistake. At least she wouldn't be tempted to fall asleep.

Mrs. Rodefer's voice was fading away, as she were falling into a dreamlike state. Her mind kept going back to the other day at Green Gables, replaying that conversation between her and Jerry, for multiple reasons. She'd eagerly absorbed his every word, she could hear him speak all day and that would still not be enough. He was smart, perhaps not like the other boys his age but he had his own way of being smart that caught Diana's eye. Not only that, his pure kindness and honesty were to be treasured. The casual tone of which he spoke about having to work from an early age had resonated with her. For her, she could not imagine doing so; for him, that was reality and a means of survival. Since than, she'd been unable to think about much else, comparing her living situation with his.

To think, if she were as poor as he, none of this would be. All of the things she was used to, everything she took for granted... She wouldn't be cooped up in any extra lessons nor would she have to fret over playing at an extravagant party. Instead of being _burdened_ with her mother purchasing an absurd amount of dresses, she would be living with one dress, probably stained with dirt and the shoes on her feet would be so worn she might as well not be wearing any at all. Everything around her-gone.

She'd be living in a small cabin like Jerry does, struggling to keep warm and well fed. Not once, since she'd become acquainted with him, had he ever complained about his situation. Never did he sound bitter or even envious when Diana (carelessly) mentioned anything about her own home life. He was happy, genuinely happy. It hardly mattered to him that things between were vastly different, things between him and Anne were quite different, as well (her heart ached at the thought of her friend).

_How_ did he do it? Diana didn't know if she could have done it, to live happily while having close to nothing (her parents would wanted to die than to live like that). He was practically alienated from everyone else his age from not attending school. That was just awful; he deserved to get an education like the rest of them. Anne could only teach him for so long, until the time came for her to go off to Queens to start a new adventure. Then what would he do? Unless Mr. or Miss Cuthbert would take over, he would have no choice but to set it to the side, focusing on the work that needed to be done on the farm.

"Miss Barry!" Diana flinched at how scandalized Mrs. Rodefer sounded. Minnie May was giggling, using her hands to muffle the noise. "I have been calling you repeatedly for the past minute. Just what has your attention that you feel it is necessary to ignore my lesson?"

With her face burning with shame, Diana tried to undo the damage she'd done. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Rodefer. Truly, I am. You will have to excuse my disgraceful behavior. It won't happen again."

The older woman pursed her lips, looking over her critically. Diana feared she would fly into a rage or storm out and quit, should she feel that she wasn't being treated fairly. Her mother would not be happy, having to find another tutor on such short notice. But, grace given by God, she did not. "Hmm, yes, well do not let it happen again. Or I may have to have another word with your parents."

"Yes, ma'am," Diana was relieved, her heart slowing back down to its normal rhythm.

Her parents were quite miffed with her already. She needn't put another check mark near her name.

It had been two days that passed. Two days since she had last seen Jerry. Two days since she had her heated discourse with Anne, of whom had decidedly still been cross with her and only spoke when necessary to her in school. Two days since she arrived back home late; her parents were furious that she wasted time by gallivanting off to Anne's house, not minding the curfew that was set up. She was forbidden from going back over there until the party was over. Diana didn't fuss; she doubted that she would be invited back any time soon. Anne could very well hold a grudge if she wanted to.

A part of her wanted to give in, to end this silly feud and go back to being bosom friends. It made her heart hurt, to be at odds with Anne, especially at a time like this. But another, more prideful part of Diana didn't want to. She felt that if anything, Anne should apologize to _her_. Why she should cave in to Anne's demands when _she_ had been the one to overstep and intentionally insult Diana for no reason? The world was not to revolve around Anne, to agree with her on everything no matter if she was in the right or not.

Worse of all, she had no one to speak of it to other than God. She'd prayed about it, asking God to give her wisdom discernment. Until then, she had to wait; wait until her pray was granted.

She sighed.

It would be nice to have someone else, someone she could lean on in times of trouble to talk to. But alas, she had no one. Her only true friend, other than Jerry, was Anne and being that this included her, she was not an acceptable option at the moment.

She'd never be able to talk to her mother about it. That would surely end in disaster. Her mother would be furious that Diana would even_ think_ about inviting a common boy; she'd forbid her from associating with Anne and most definitely Jerry.

Not even the girls that had been her closests friends at one point-Ruby, Tillie, Jane-could be trusted to know such secret information. They were too close with Josie and Diana refused to risk everything. She couldn't allow it; not if she didn't want everything to spiral out of control.

Diana didn't know what to do. To keep it buried within until it was ready to burst out of her or to relieve that feeling but risk loosing everything?

Oh, why must this fall on her?

"Now, let's move on to the next step," Mrs. Rodefer clapped her hands twice. She gestured for Diana and Minnie May to rise. "Now, Diana, dear, take this book and lay it flat on your head. I want you to walk to the door and back until you can do so without the book falling off. Do you understand me?"

Diana nodded. She remembered having do that particular exercise before, when her mother took it upon herself to teach her and Minnie May manners. It hadn't gone as planned; Diana almost preferred Mrs. Rodefer to their mother and how she would scream at them for making a mistake. She did not care to ever repeat that.

"Miss Barry, you know that a lady is to properly convey what she is thinking. Now what do you say?" Mrs. Rodefer instructed.

"I'm sorry. Yes," Diana corrected.

"Yes, _what_?" the older woman was beginning to sound displeased.

Diana closed her eyes briefly. "I'm sorry," she apologized again. "Yes, ma'am."

"There we are," Mrs. Rodefer handed her the thick book, the same one she'd read from. "Now, do as I have said. Let's see if you have it in you, to be a proper lady."

A _proper_ lady. Goodness, was she tired of hearing that. Diana tried very hard, somehow she still always came up short.

It was thoroughly discouraging. But she ought to not complain, complaining didn't get anyone anywhere.

"Hold your head up straighter, dear. There-that's it. Now walk to the door and back. Keep your eyes facing the front, don't let them wander and if the books falls, you are to start over,"

Dians started to walk, but was only halfway to the door when it fell right off, landing on the floor with a thud.

Perhaps she didn't have it in her

"I see your effort today is less than to be desired," Mrs. Rodefer said briskly. "Well, start again. You must master this task before we move on. Our next chapter is on how to do a proper curtsey."

"But we already learned about curtseying in chapter two?" Diana should have kept her mouth shut. "Why are we revisiting what we have already learned?"

Mrs. Rodefer reared back, as if astounded that Diana dared to question her teaching skills. "Excuse me? Young lady, I thought your parents taught you better than to question your elders. Why, I'm shocked. In my day, children were to be seen and not heard. You would land yourself a sore bottom if you had my mother, Miss Barry."

"I-I'm sorry, Mrs. Rodefer," Diana stuttered. "I didn't mean to offend you. I don't understand, is all. Shouldn't we be moving on to something else?"

"If you had taken anything away from our lessons, Miss Barry, you would have understood that we did not cover the topic in its entirety. Yes, you were given the basic definition but now we will go in depth and practice in different settings. You will be able to perform a proper curtsey in the presence of a man by the time we are finished," the older woman lectured, wagging her finger at Diana's face.

"Ooo, Diana's in trouble," Minnie May whispered.

Diana refrained from glaring at her.

"As for _you_ Miss Barry," Mrs. Rodefer had turned on Minnie May, now. "You are to watch your sister because you, too, will be required to curtsey. Perhaps not now, but one day you will. It's best to learn while you are young before you grow up to be different like your sister, here."

Diana's eye twitched.

She was _not_ defiant. How dare she-

"Let us try again," Mrs. Rodefer sat down, waving her hand to let Diana know she needed to pick up the book. "Perhaps you will be better this time around."

She made it less than she had the first time.

"Dear me," Mrs. Rodefer muttered (had Diana done it, she would've been scolded). "I wrote detailed instructions for you to follow. I've never had any pupil fail before. Have you not been reading the notes I provided?"

"No ma'am," Diana admitted quietly. She lowered her gaze when the older woman turned very cross.

"Excuse me? What do you mean, no? What on God's green earth have you been doing, then?"

"I have been very busy," Diana stared down at her shoes with all the dread of a naughty child that was caught in the moment of rebellion. "Father is having a business party this Friday and he has requested that I play the piano. Mother wants me to practice as much as possible. I'm afraid, I haven't had the time to look over a single thing."

Mrs. Rodefer let out a huff, quite undignified for a lady of her stature. "Haven't had the time, what nerve you have! Absolutely unbelievable!"

Diana rubbed her forearm, chewing on her bottom lip unsurely.

"Your father is paying me good money and for what? To slack off like some scoundrel?" she did not give Diana any time to answer. "If your parents will not cooperate with the instructions I have given you, then I should let myself out. I will not have my efforts undermined. You will tell them that, Miss Barry."

"Yes, Ma'am," Diana said timidly. "Of course, Ma'am."

The older woman continued her rant, ruffled up in a way neither girl had seen her before. "Your mother sought me out to turn the both of you into perfect little ladies. I accepted the position because she specifically reassured me that both of you would put the maximum amount of concentration into these lessons. I was told there would be no troubles at all! That you would be willing to do whatever it is that was required! Yet, I find out that something else is more important to you. Tell me, Miss Barry, why should be here if you're not going to do as I say?"

This was really not Diana's place to plead for them. Her parents should have been there, calming the woman down. Not her. She had no idea as to what to do. Oh, dear. She was never any good at confrontations. But she must do something; her mother would have a fit if she knew Mrs. Rodefer quit, especially now that Diana was in her last year of school (especially if she knew Mrs. Rodefer had quit all because of Diana). All of her mother's plans, thought up long before Diana was born, would be ruined if she didn't act fast.

"I'm very sorry, Mrs. Rodefer," she spoke up. Beside her, Minnie May was trying to walk with her own book, albeit halfheartedly, but that fell to the floor, too. Mrs. Rodefer's eye twitched. "I-We will do better, I assure you. We should have taken this more seriously. I hate to think that we wasted your time-"

"But you did," the woman said acidly.

Diana swallowed. "Yes. You're correct. I will have a talk with mother tonight and see if I can set aside time to study your notes."

"If you can?" Mrs. Rodefer echoed. "No, child, there is no 'if you can'. You will do. You will talk to that mother of yours and you will set time aside to study my notes or you can tell your mother that she must find you someone else." She stared down at Diana with the glare of someone not to be taken lightly.

"Yes, Ma'am," Diana said faintly.

"I have been teaching for many years, Miss Barry. Many years with widely different pupils. Never have I let a family disrespect and disobey me like yours has. If I must, I shall leave. I am sure there are plenty of other families that would be delighted to have me teach their children. I am of high regard. It will not take very long."

The stern tone sombered the sisters, even Minnie May. She understood that now was not a time for pleasure, but for duty and honor. Reluctantly, she sat back down, like a lady this time. As for Diana, she recognized that a lot was at stake. If she put all of her attention toward playing well at the party, then Mrs. Rodefer would have a fit. But if she concentrated too much on these lessons, her mother would have a fit.

She was at a loss. New obstacles kept being hurled at her and she didn't have enough time to jump out of the way before a new one came out of nowhere.

_Jerry must be having a better time than I_

No, she must snap out of it. She cannot be drifting back to Jerry at a time like this.

"Let us try it again. Miss Barry, to the doorway and back and go," Mrs. Rodefer nodded at her.

So, with the grace of a dainty grown up lady, Diana bent down with her knees and took the book. Ever so carefully, she began to walk.


	10. Chapter 10

**I'm sorry it's shorter. Next chpater will be longer, I promise! **

_He'd taken her hand, intertwining their fingers. _

_A shy smile exchanged, eyes lowering to the ground . _

_They set off, through the wooded area, past a few dimly lit houses. She allowed him to guide her, relaxing within his presence. _

_A sense of freedom rushed through her veins, a spike of adrenaline swayed her normally rational judgement. Jerry's touch sent shivers up her spine. _

_She longed to caress his cheek, ached to run her hand through his hair. _

_Oh, she inhaled. Her stomach was fluttering, rendering her distracted. He have known, must have known what he was doing to her. _

_He turned to her, eyes sparkling like the brightest of gems. A hand on her back, a jolt of electricity that followed. _

_Diana could hardly contain herself. _

_He brought her to a pasture, right up in the middle where they seated themselves. She was saddened by the loss of contact when he let go. _

_"__I thought you would like it here," as smooth as velvet, his voice met her ears. "You do, yes?" _

_"__Oui," she breathed. "It's beautiful, Jerry." _

_The grass was lively, the brightest green she'd ever seen. Fresh, blooming flowers had sprouted up now that the springtime had arrived and the dandelions had come as well. A faint breeze made the flowers sway, blowing onto her warm cheeks. _

_"__You are beautiful as well," he spoke so quietly she strained to hear him. _

_Her heartbeat quickened. _

_"__You don't mean that, surely," she was left breathless upon his gaze falling onto her. _

_His hand cupped her cheek, stroking it with his thumb. _

_The sun was dipping below the horizon, the sky was illuminated by pink and orange hues. _

_Neither of them noticed. _

_"__Would I lie top you?" he whispered, hovering close to her lips.  
__"__I-erm," her brain was swarming with numerous thoughts. It was so wrong...yet it felt so right. _

_"__Would I, Diana?" he leaned in, "Would I?" _

"_Diana!_"

She had been slouching, leaning right above the piano keys. Her mother had woken her up quite early before dawn while holding onto a candle and urging that she get dressed at this instant so she would have enough time to practice before she must be off to school.

Only, she never did make it to school. She needed more time, according to her mother, so she was given permission to stay home just this once.

Diana would have preferred not to. Today was the history test she'd been studying dutifully for. Miss Stay would allow her to take it tomorrow, she would understand (all too well. She'd met Diana's mother in not the most pleasant circumstances). But it was the reason _why _she must stay home that bothered her, that practically _embarrassed _her. To think, while some of her classmates were on the poor side (nowhere near the way Jerry's family was), and she was staying behind to prepare for a grand party. Similar times had occurred prior to it but the difference was, she hadn't thought twice about.

Until now.

The party was tomorrow; the entire household was on edge, not an unusual sight before a significant event. Her mother instructed the maids that clean the house from top tp bottom everyday for the last week to ensure that not a speck of dust would be visible to their highly important guests; never mind the fact that the poor women were being worked to death. Why, Margaret Jo hardly ever had a moment to breathe while Diana's mother was ordering her around, needing this and that to be done when she could have very well did it herself!

Perhaps she ought to banish those wicked thoughts away. Diana was in a poor mood, battling through a lack of well rest and hunger pains. Her mother had fretted one day when she needed measurements for a new dress that was to be made specifically for the party and, according to her, noticed that Diana went up a size. From then on, she restricted her daughter's food intake, fearing she would become a bit puffy if she didn't.

The unintentional gibe stung, a bit of a shot down on her self-confidence. In the moment, she'd frozen momentarily, quite caught off guard. Was that her mother's primary worry? That Diana would be seen as puffy, although there was no indication that it was a potential problem? She couldn't very well escape from her mother, to retreat to her bedroom for any solstice. She could only swallow back her true emotions, feigning a smile and nodding, acknowledging the nonexistent issue.

Diana understood that her mother had well intentions, only wishing the best for her daughters.

At least...that's what Diana repeatedly told herself.

It pained her greatly, to hear such harsh criticism on a daily basis. She had no other choice but to grin and bear it, to pretend that everything was alright; that she heart wasn't aching from it all.

That being said, she could absolutely _never _bring it up with her mother to discuss and expel all of the negative feelings she'd been suppressing for the past few years. She would be reprimanded, told she must act like a lady and not be so dramatic. Her mother would tisk, shaking her head disappointedly, and utter a reminiscing thought from her own childhood on how _she _never once questioned her mother, _she _had the utmost respect for her parents-

It had gotten tiring to hear. Just another figurative mark against her, a symbol of how she was nowhere near who she was supposed to be, who her parents had brought up with their idealistic values.

Diana scrambled upright. She blinked rapidly, to get the feeling of sleep out of her eyes. She'd only leaned down for a moment, to rest for a split-second after she played nonstop for two hours. Had there not been an assignment that was due first thing in the morning, she was certain that her mother would have insisted she do it later. But a lady never procrastinates, Diana had been told. She must always do her best while also never attempting to outshine her male peers. A man would never want his wife to be smarter than him.

That particular statement resonated with her, rubbing her the wrong way. It didn't make _sense_. It should have hardly mattered...right? Her husband shouldn't want her to purposefully do worse so as she can prove herself worthy to him.

Diana had spoken to her mother about it, feeling an inner confliction. Her mother had been a lady of society long before her so she was aware of what was acceptable and what was not, so she should trust her instincts. Still, however, Diana also knew that things were changing. Albeit, slowly but indeed, they were. Just taking a look at Miss Stacy had been enough to open her eyes and not looked away like her parents would have wanted her to.

She winced at the screeching tone of her mother _and _the pain radiating from the back of her neck. She was going to pay for that one.

Her mother quickly swept over to the grand piano, the skirt of her dress was swaying as she did so. "Diana, what is the meaning of this, hmm? You have never fallen asleep while playing before. I don't understand." She was scandalized, simultaneously oblivious to what she'd been putting her daughter through; foolishly believing Diana would have no difficulty following through with it.

Ignorance must indeed be bliss.

"I'm sorry, mother. I must confess, I am tired. I only meant to take a short break, I never meant to fall asleep," Diana said hurriedly to avoid another permanent mark against her (although it was most likely already too late. Falling asleep while she was supposed to be practicing was a grave sin, so she found out).

"Tired?" her mother echoed (if it wasn't considered unladylike, she would have scoffed, Diana was sure). "Diana, what have you done to be tired? You've hardly made a dent with your practicing. All you have done is make up countless excuses as to why you cannot do it. _Tired. _Why, I cannot believe that I'm hearing this. Is that how a lady acts, Diana? Does a lady complain and make up excuses? Does she disobey her parents?"

'No," Diana's voice was small.

Her mother took ahold of her chin, bringing her face up to meet her mother's eyes. "Chin _up_. Do not look away while you are speaking to me."

Diana felt herself shrunk. She was filled with a sense of helplessness, feeling as though she was trapped through an endless cycle. And if her mother had a say about it, she would be.

Her mother let go, pointing a finger down at the piano. "Play. Play it again. You have to be perfect, dear. Remember that."

_But what if I don't want to be perfect? _

Her mother dropped the frustration she had, sighing softly; placing her hands on Diana's shoulders and ever slightly massaging them. It did not feel good, she should add. "I only want the best for you, darling. Think of the opportunities you might have. One of the men that works with your father knows the music teacher at the boarding shool you'll be attending. If he knows of your talent now, we can expand on that before you go. He might even be interested in sending someone to give you lessons with professional music from French plays. Won't be that be magnificent?"

Diana couldn't feel too excited. It wasn't easy playing a song she heard from church, let alone one from a play; a professional one at that. Regardless, she held back her true feelings on the matter and clasped her hands together. "Oh, my. I don't know what to say."

It wasn't far off from the truth.

Her mother squeezed her shoulders. "I knew you would be excited. You see, if you listen, everything will work itself out. Your father and I know what's best for you."

_Do you? _

"Good afternoon, Miss Barry," Margaret Jo nodded toward her politely. "Would you like your usual?"

"Yes, please," Diana sat down at the table, crossing her legs underneath, smoothing down the front of her dress. She was the first to come: Minnie May was in her room, standing in the corner of the room after refusing to corporate with their mother about her own school lessons. Before long, after a few years of Diana being away at college, Minnie May would be in the very same schoolhouse.

Right now, her mother be cooling somewhere, regaining her composure after she inevitably lost her temper for the second time that day. She must be muttering about insolent children, how she _cannot believe _that _her _children are behaving this way and if she ever did the same-

Her father was in his study, where he usually was kept up until it was time for dinner. It displeased her mother greatly, she preferred that he would eat with them but there was nothing she could do. He would remind her where her place was and she would become uncomfortable, adjusting and readjusting her dress as a means of distraction before she would depart.

Margaret Jo placed a plate of boiled onions, potatoes and spinach in front of her. Diana thanked her, sending the woman a friendly smile. She'd been with the Barry's for as long as Diana could recall; in a way she was the big sister that Diana didn't have. Of course, she was careful not to let her mother know of her thoughts. Mrs. Barry didn't want her daughter looking up to the help, of all people. That was just disgraceful.

"How's the piano going, Miss Barry? You're sounding mighty lovely, from what I hear," Margaret Jo remarked, bringing out the polish for the numerous flower vases. Everything needed to sparkle, to shine.

"You must be hearing a different girl," Diana said glumly. "I've hardly improved at all."

"Nonsense!" Margaret Jo said in a good-natured, scolding tone. Diana was doubtful. "When I was your age, I went to school with a girl that played piano as well, she was spectacular. You're very good, too, better even."

"You're being too kind," Diana said, flustered. "I've messed up on the same part all week. Mother says I must learn it by tomorrow but it's impossible."

"Nothing is impossible if you set your mind to it, Miss. You'll be fine, I'm sure. Perhaps a break shall do you some good. You've been practicing for many hours."

A throb came from her fingers, making her look down at them briefly. "Perhaps you're right," she said. "But Mother will never allow it. She's adamant that I must stay and practice for as long as it must take for me to learn the piece. She would be furious if she saw me sitting around."

The maid smiled sympathetically. "I'm sorry, Miss."

Diana pushed her food around on her plate. "It isn't your fault, no need to be sorry. I simply wish Mother understood my grievances instead of dismissing me."

She was nearly and adult for Heaven's sake. She really ought to be taken seriously and not pushed to the side like some child. Anne was taken seriously for the most part by the Cuthbert's when she wasn't caught up in some sort of scheme, that is.

Oh, _Anne_. They were still at odds. Oh, whatever was she to do? It was just awful, that they hadn't spoken willingly since their confrontation.

From across the room, she saw that Margaret Jo was giving instructions to another one of the maids, mentioning that she was going out to Charlotte Town for the afternoon and wouldn't be back for a few hours.

A figurative lightbulb went off in her head.

She waited until Margaret Jo was finished speaking, then she approached the woman, smiling sweetly.

"May I join you?" she asked, slightly overeager.

The older woman was taken aback. "Join me?"

"Yes-please. If I may, I'd love to," Diana thought that this was her chance, to finally get a break and some fresh air. "I'll help you."

"I'm not sure if that's appropriate, Miss Barry."

"Oh, please," Diana pleaded. "You said a break would do me some good."

"Well, yes but-"

"And what better than to be with you," Diana said. "Oh, please? I'd just be so grateful. I quite enjoy your company."

She was flattering for the sole purpose of being allowed to do. Some of the other helpers exchanged looks, apparently surprised by this behavior.

"I-well...I don't-" but Margaret Jo saw the desperation on her face and sighed in defeat. "Alright. I suppose it wouldn't be any trouble if you accompanied me," she said uneasily.

"Oh, thank you! Thank you so much!" Diana hugged the woman. When she pulled away, keeping her at arms length, she added, "If mother becomes upset, I'll take the blame. Don't worry."

Somehow, that didn't make things any better.


	11. Chapter 11

An overwhelming sense of giddiness overtook her; a feeling of adrenaline that sped up her heart and kept her squirming in her seat. It was quite enthralling, even if the destination in itself wasn't as exciting. Just to be out, without the bounds of her commitments weighing her down was freeing.

Margaret May was sitting across from her in the carriage, with her hands clasped together neatly in front of her, glancing out the window on occasion. She'd been uneasy about the whole thing, especially how Diana had rushed her out the door, simultaneously reassuring the older woman repeatedly that she wouldn't be in trouble for this.

Of course, Diana had no way of knowing whether or not her mother would retaliate against the poor girl for simply going along with her daughter's wishes. She was fairly sure that her mother wouldn't appreciate that she had gone off without any permission or notice to her parents. She might even be forbidden from any leisurely pleasure after it was over, as a sort of punishment. Still, she'd went over the possibilities and came to the conclusion that she didn't care what happened at the moment; she needed an escape, a way of taking a breather.

Which meant she'd have to tell a _tiny _white lie so Margaret Jo didn't suddenly wish to turn back to avoid getting into any trouble.

Her conscious was growing restless by the minute, now that the number of _little white lies _she had been telling lately had risen exponentially.

She shifted, crossing one leg over the other, feeling a sensation of pins and needles in her right leg. She'd been meaning to thank Margaret Jo for allowing her to be of company (even if she had most likely only agreed because of Diana's insistence).

"I really appreciate you allowing me to come," she said with utmost sincerity. "I've simply been absolutely bored. It's quite nice out here."

Margaret Jo sent her a quick, somewhat strained smile in return. "Of course, Miss. But Miss Barry-" Diana inwardly cringed. _Oh, here it comes. _"Are you certain that your mother will be alright with this, Miss Barry?"

"Of course," she couldn't quite meet her eyes. "You mustn't worry so much."

Margaret Jo frowned but didn't say anything else.

The horses stopped right in front of the _Charlottown _sign. Diana felt a smile come across her face as she peered out the window. The town was bustling with people going every which way, up and down the sidewalks. They were having a chat with others, carrying loads of things in their arms and some were stopped at store windows to gaze at. She'd been out and about before, been in that same town before but this time felt different and she couldn't put her finger on it as to why.

The door to their carriage opened, the man that had taken them offered Diana and Margaret Jo a hand. The older woman gestured for Diana to go first, as she was her guest. Diana smiled at him warmly, accepting his hand. She also thanked him, stepping onto the ground and moving to the side as he helped Margaret Jo.

She was simply awestruck at the sight of everyone. "It's beautiful," she whispered to herself, deciding that was indeed the appropriate word. "Simply splendid. I almost forgot what the outside looked like."

To anyone else, that might have sounded like a small exaggeration, but to anyone that knew of Diana's home life, they would know it was not.

Behind her, Margaret May also thanked their driver. She patted one of the horse's on its head, asking the man what time he would be back. Diana wasn't listening to their exchange, not really.

On the other side of the street, a small child that she predicted was a tad younger than Minnie May, was struggling against his mother's grip. Something else had caught his eye and he was doing his best to escape from her and get back to it.

The child was delightfully cute, even in the midst of his temper tantrum. She wondered, with a demure smile, of her own not yet thought of children. She was steadily getting close to the age of being with a child, it was both exciting and frightening. Diana was unsure of her mothering abilities, whether or not she would be as good as her own mother. The only consistent child she had been around was her sister and she dreaded to think of the long winded days when dealing with one that resembled Minnie May. She already acted defiant toward Diana enough as it was.

But still, it certainly sounded lovely to imagine a family all of her own; a husband to cherish her and two kids. If God had it in his plan for her, she would adore twins. A boy and a girl and they would be the spitting image of her and her husband.

Diana was lost within her own world, she did not notice Margaret Jo coming up beside her, of whom had heard her murmurings. "Beautiful, hmm?" her voice startled Diana but she did not flinch. "Always thought it was a bit mundane, myself."

"No, it's beautiful." _Look how happy everyone is. It's as if the don't have a care in the world. _"Than again, I suppose it's a matter of opinion." _Why can't I be that happy? What am I missing? _

Margaret Jo smiled once more, reaching into the pocket of her dress and taking out a folded list.

Margaret Jo smiled, taking out a list from her dress pocket. "Well, Miss, we've a lot to get. Mrs. Barry wants a cake for the party and I'm afraid we have no more flour. We're also low on sugar and..."

Despite how she should have been a little more respectful since Margaret Jo was kind enough to allow her to come with, Diana zoned out. She was more keen on watching the people around them, wondering about their lives and what had brought them to town.

It was so intriguing, she couldn't help herself.

In some instances, she stared too long; some smiled in her direction and others thought she must be very strange, looking uncomfortable with the attention.

"-I must also find a new vase for the dining room. It has four cracks in it and I'm sure I know who is the cause of it."

She was referring to Minnie May, of course. Her sister had an awful habit of running around in the house, ignoring the warnings that she must not.

"Oh," she fiddled with her hands. She didn't know how to properly respond to that other than to make a mental note and remind her sister that she must obey the house rules.

Margaret Jo pulled her coat closer as a chill swept through the air. "Well, I suppose we ought to get going before we catch our death. Come along, Miss Barry."

They began to walk, staying close together.

"What must we get first?" Diana asked, feigning interest. In reality, she did not want to walk in silence. They were out and about, she should be happy. She should be engaging with her companion.

"I'm not sure. I usually leave the food until last so it doesn't spoil but there's quite a crowd we have here. I wouldn't want to risk not getting something off your mother's list. Let's stop and get the flour first. It's such a hassle, quite heavy. I usually have difficulty carrying everything but if you don't mind, I could use the extra set of arms."

"Of course," Diana only felt that she must agree, it would be impolite not to. She slid closer to Margaret Jo, as a few people came up to pass them, eying her expensive coat curiously-almost enviously. She suddenly called the words of her father, that he'd warned her about going out and about where the common folks were; how they would do anything for a few coins.

She pulled her coat tighter against her body, feeling somewhat defensive.

"Are you cold, Miss?" Margaret Jo was concerned, having just seen her mess with her coat. "Would you like to go back? I can arrange-"

"Hmm? Oh, no," Diana replied hastily. "I'm fine, thank you." She didn't want explain, too bashful of sounding awfully spoiled.

Margaret Jo didn't press any further, deciding to take Diana's word for it. She was looking at the list again, wordlessly directing Diana to the store in which they needed to be at.

_Margaret Jo is so lucky. She doesn't have the same responsibilities and duties. She is free, truly free _

It was all Diana had ever wanted; freedom. A simple word, a singe word, but it expressed so much. It spoke volumes, spoke fiercer than she was feeling on a day-to-day basis. As she was never truly free, not in the sense she longed for. At the current moment, walking alongside Margaret May and admiring the scenery, it was calming. She didn't have her mother standing over her, pointing out the many mistakes she was making or the overwhelming pressure to do better weighing her down. She could breathe. She could relax.

She loathed to think that all of that would disappear when she stepped back into that carriage.

Diana glanced over to the right, not for anything in particular until something had caught her eye. She whirled her head back to that same spot, perked up.

_Oh my _

She thought...she thought she had seen someone familiar. But that was absurd. It must have been a figment of her imagination.

_Was that-no...it couldn't have been _

_Or was it? _

"Here we are," Margaret Jo broke through Diana's thoughts. She shoved the list back into her pocket, straightening herself up. She started to go in, then stopping when she realized that Diana hadn't followed her inside. She was still standing there, staring straight ahead at seemingly nothing. It was quite a peculiar sight. "Miss Barry?" she tried then repeated that same question when Diana still hadn't answered her. "Would you like to come inside?"

"What?" Diana blinked, a bit embarrassed to be caught like that.

"I asked you if you would like to come inside?"

"May I stay out here?" she inquired, her heart dropping a bit at the look of doubt on Margaret Jo. "Oh, please? I'll stay right here the entire time. I promise. And I won't talk to anyone. Oh, please?"

"I suppose it might be alright," Margaret Jo was wringing her hands, a nervous habit of hers. Diana had seen her do that when being harped on by Diana's mother. "But you mustn't wander and please do not let your mother know of this. I don't want you to lie but she will have my head if she knew."

"I won't," Diana told her. "I won't say a word."

"Well, alright," she went inside, looking back over her shoulder as if to make sure Diana was still there and not moved an inch.

Diana smiled at her, then, as soon the older woman's back was facing her again, she turned her eyes to the other way. She scrunched her face, to peek through the crowd for _that _person.

_I must have been imagining _

_Perhaps the lack of sleep has finally caught up with me _

That made sense; more than foolishly believing that _he'd _been there, miraculously at the same time she was. A pure coincidence if it was. She'd heard it from Aunt Jo that God had a sense of humor; he definitely did if _Jerry _of people had decided to come to town on a Thursday afternoon.

The boy she had mistakenly presumed to be Jerry turned around, holding his arm out for the lady that was with him. A bit of the happiness that she'd felt, dimmed. The nervous grin slid off her face and she lowered her eyes. The boy was handsome, but it was a different handsome to that of Jerry's.

Why did she have to be wrong? It might have been nice to see him.

_You're more than used to your dreams being crushed. You should know better than to get your hopes up _

She was going to go into the store Margaret Jo had gone into. She might as well do something instead of standing outside, looking silly.

She turned to do just that, only to notice a figure over by the corner, bidding one of the elderly shopkeepers goodbye in a cheerful tone.

"Jerry," she said breathlessly.

_He was _there. She should say something, shouldn't she? After all, it would be impolite not to..

She waited until he was done speaking, then she strode over with her heart hammering and sweat beginning to form on her palms. This was silly. Jerry was only a friend, she needn't get so worked up over nothing.

She shook her head to rid herself of those absurd thoughts.

"Hello, Jerry," she spoke louder to grab his attention, to pull him away from any other distractions and onto to turn. In mere seconds, their eyes met and she could have _sworn _that his face lit up.

_He's happy to see me _

_No, it couldn't be _

_...Could it? _

"Diana!" He sounded overjoyed or was she exaggerating?

He was standing tall, wrapped in a thin, tattered coat that she imagined wasn't thick enough to block out the chilly gusts of wind. His cheeks were ink but his spirits were bright; his eyes crinkled and he beamed down at her.

She felt a tad flustered.

"Jerry," she greeted after an embarrassing pause, remembering her manners. "Hello."

There was a large bag of something that was half over his shoulder. She thought it must be heavy to handle, although he didn't appear to be the slightest uncomfortable.

_He must be very strong_ and that thought sent a wave of pleasure in her stomach. She wished to shiver, being able to easily blame it on the temperature.

"What a surprise to see you," he set the bag down on the ground then faced her again.

She nodded. "It's lovely to see you, too."

"Forgive me for being intrusive-" _He must have learned that word from Anne. _"Is today not a school day? Miss Cuthbert sent Anne off this morning."

Her cheeks suddenly felt warm and it wasn't because of her coat.

"It is," she was unable to meet his eyes again, shame entangling her.

"Oh," he said with a touch of perplexity that washed over him. In that same instance, another bout of wind came through, he shivered involuntarily and Diana, pitying him, pretended not to notice by looking over at a display case.

"Yes," she said, hoping to steer away from the awkwardness that was still hanging over them. How was she ever to explain? "What brings you to Charlottown?" she inquired.

"Miss Cuthbert needed sugar," he gestured down to the large bah he'd been carrying. "She's baking a pie so I volunteered to go so Mr. Cuthbert doesn't have to."

"I see," she said. "Well that's very kind of you. How is Mr. Cuthbert doing? I know Anne said-" she felt that sting again, by saying Anne's name. She must, absolutely _must _stop by once the party was all over. "She said he was having difficulty."

If Jerry noticed her pain, he never made a mention of it. "He's doing alright. Miss Cuthbert has been hounding him to take a break but he refuses. I'm a bit concerned. He fell once while we were working, he passed out twice in the barn on two different days and he's been out of breath multiple times but he won't let me do anything except give him some water."

"Oh, dear." Anne would have been worried sick if he knew. She loved Mr. Cuthbert fiercely. "Can you convince him to see a doctor? Perhaps you should tell Miss Cuthbert, she might be able to do something."

"I cannot," he shook his head. "He's sworn me to secrecy."

"That's not good," she frowned. "There must be something you can do."

He sighed helplessly. "I fear for him, Diana. I fear I will find him dead one day."

"Oh, Jerry don't talk like that," she advised, unsettled by the rawness of his words.

He sent her an apologetic look.

"You must pray," she told him with a shaky voice. "Pray to God that He heals Mr. Cuthbert if it is His will. Oh my, Jerry, does Anne of this?"

"Not yet," he said quietly. "Neither of them know. I don't know what to do, Diana. I feel guilty."

"Guilty for what?" she came a step closer, perhaps unconsciously. "You shouldn't feel bad for anything, Jerry."

"Yes, but." And she really saw how much he was struggling. "What if they find out and they blame me for it."

"Blame you?" she was shocked. "Blame you for what? You've done nothing wrong."

"For not telling them. What if they fire me?" he said anxiously. "I will not be able to provide for my family if that happens. I don't want to be the reason why they starve."

"Jerry, please," she pleaded, "you must calm down." It would do his family no good to get all wound up in the middle of town. He took a deep breath, composing himself. "Have you ever known Miss Cuthbert to be irrational?"

"Well, no," he admitted.

"Miss Cuthbert won't fire you. You're only doing what Mr. Cuthbert told you to do. She can't hate you for that."

"I suppose you are right," his accent was thicker than normal. He looked tired. "I hope Anne doesn't, though."

"Why would Anne hate you?"

"She's been upset, since last Friday, I think."

"Oh," she hoped her nervousness wasn't as evident as she felt it was. "Do you have any idea as to why?"

"No," he replied, shaking his head. "Miss Cuthbert tried to get it out of her but she refused to say what was wrong. Miss Cuthbert thinks she's being dramatic again."

Diana thanked _God _that Anne hadn't let out the real reason for her anger. How mortified she would be if Jerry knew, if he knew that he wouldn't be allowed inside her home because her parents looked down on people like him.

_I can only imagine how awful he would feel_, she thought melancholy.

"Maybe she'll feel better after eating Miss Cuthbert's pie," Diana suggested.

"Maybe," he echoed.

...The silence loomed over them once again, stopping the conversation in its tracks. Diana glanced at the shop, trying to crane her neck and see if there happened to be a line that was keeping Margaret Jo from finishing up so they could move onto the next store. It wasn't that she was displeased with spending those marvelous minutes with Jerry; she was a bit at being caught, at having Margaret Jo come out at the wrong time when she was engrossed in talking with him. She feared what the woman would do; would she be astounded and make a scene and bring it up with Diana's parents later?

"How is the piano going?" The question caught her off guard, having forgotten that she'd told Jerry about her worries regarding the dinner party. "Are you still nervous?"

"Hmm? Oh, yes," her stomach was twisting again at the mere thought. "I'm afraid so. I simply _cannot _perfect the piece that Father wishes that I play."

"I'm sorry to hear that," and he seemed genuine.

"Mother has made me practice every minute and I feel ready to burst! I'm quite sick of it but she's fretting. I'm so nervous, Jerry and I haven't had the chance to read the book yet and-"

"Diana," he interjected. She quieted down. "Do you feel better now?"

"A little," not exactly considering she acted imprudently right in front of him, _but _she did feel a little lighter. She looked down at the ground, ashamed. "I'm sorry about that."

"Don't be," he waved it off. "It appears that we are both stressed."

That was an understatement.

"Mother has worked me to the bone," she kept her tone as low as possible to keep eavesdropping ears away while making sure Jerry still heard her. Oh, if anyone that knew her parents were here... "She forbid me from going to school today. She insisted I stay home and practice. That's why I'm here; I'm accompanying one of the maids-Margaret Jo. She's gathering a few things for Father's party tomorrow. I'm so tired. Mother woke me up at dawn to get a head start."

Jerry was (_rightfully_) appalled.

"I used to love piano," her lip quivered but she was determined to keep her own composure. "I thought I'd love to play. Mother told me that as a proper lady I ought to learn. I'm just so _frightened_ to play in front of everyone else. I dread playing anymore. I just want this to all be over."

She was miserable. She felt the prickle behind her eyes and blinked hard to push it away. "I'm sorry," she let out a resigned, somewhat bitter laugh. "You must think of me as foolish."

"I think of you as brilliant; as someone who is in over head trying to be the best she can be for a party she doesn't want to be apart of," he, too, stepped closer.

She was starting to become lost within his sparkling brown pools...then she pulled back.

"Yes, well," she cleared her throat. "That's very kind of you."

"Diana." She looked up again. "I did not think I would get the chance to tell you but good luck. You will do great," he said shyly.

"You mean that?" his praise soothed her nerves slightly. _Jerry_ thought she would do well and he hadn't even heard her play.

"Of course, and Diana?"

"Yes, Jerry?" she whispered.

"Don't listen to them," his tone was teetering on hesitancy. However, it only lasted a moment. Then he was confident, assured. "You will do fine and if you do mess up, so be it."

"You don't understand," she said sadly. He was being sweet, trying to ease her. She _did _appreciate it, but her mother's voice in the back of her mind grew louder, more demanding. "I will never live it down. Jerry, my parents will _hate _me."

"That is not true," he was quick to squash that thought. "You mustn't think like that. If you get nervous-" his eyes darted around, "if you get nervous just take a deep breath and count to twenty. Count backwards if you have to."

"How will that-"

"It will keep your mind focused," he told her. "My Maman taught me that."

_And now you're sharing it with me _

"Thank you," and she meant it.

He seemed pleased that she accepted his suggestion, his cheeks going a tad darker shade of pink. Without thinking, he reached out his hand to touch her face, to pull back a a long strand of hair that the wind had blown into her face.

Her breath momentarily halted.

He quickly retracted his hand.

They were _both _surprised by his boldness.

"Jerry-" Diana's mouth was dry, her tongue flimsy.

"Diana, I-" he was horrified by his lapse in judgement.

"Miss Barry!" Margaret Jo was just _now _leaving the store, holding onto a bag of flour that was as big as the bag of sugar Jerry had been carrying. The flour was blocking her vision, keeping her from seeing Jerry.

Diana was frantic. "Go!" she said urgently. "You have to go."

Without so much as a good-bye (other than the sorrowful look ha gave her), Jerry hoisted up the bag of sugar and went off in the other direction.

As if he didn't know her.

As if he was no more than a stranger.

Her cheek was practically on fire from his touch; she held up her hand to feel it, not listening to Margeret Jo as she began recounting her time in the store.

"I'm terribly sorry, Miss Barry! Why, I forgot you were with me! I found some nice jams while waiting for the flour and had a chat with a lady that was also waiting in line-oh, I hope you aren't upset with me, Miss!"

"No," Diana murmured dazedly. "No, no. That's quite alright."


	12. Chapter 12

It was the evening of the party. Everything was going smoothly and thank Heavens for that-for all of the worrying that had gone into it, Diana dreaded to think what would happen if it was short of perfect.

Father had hired a small orchestra to perform; a well known group that traveled quite frequently to play events like this one. They were very good; it was the most exquisite music she had ever heard and gathered that the guests enjoyed it as well. They were impressed. She even heard as she passed by, someone remarking that _Mr. Jameson only hired one violin player for the occasion _and that _he hadn't nearly been as good_.

Her father would be delighted if he knew. He didn't like Mr. Jameson-whomever he was. Diana heard the name roll off her father's tongue once or twice and both were with disdain.

And speaking of her father, he was lost within the crowd. As soon as the first couple arrived, he had taken the husband into his study while his wife stayed with her mother and they made their way to the kitchen so Mrs. Barry could find out if the lemon meringue squares were ready.

As of right now, she gazed around the room and caught sight of one of the maids trying her best to take Minnie May upstairs but her sister wasn't having it. While not making a fuss to attract attention, she was squirming to attempt at getting away. She'd been allowed to attend but only for a certain time. Now, it was growing closer to the time when she should have been tucked in bed.

With another glance, she saw that her mother had not yet noticed. She was entertaining a group of women, unbothered by her daughter's behavior. Diana felt sorry for the maid but also knew better than to intervene. Her mother would turn around at the exact moment Diana would try at getting Minnie May to listen and then, after the party was over, she would have to listen to them prattle off how _disappointed _they were and how much _embarrassment _she caused them.

She'd listened to enough on the days leading up to the event.

She _refused _to listen anymore.

A sigh escaped her lips.

She felt awfully lonely, just standing there by herself. Everyone else was with someone and they chattered amongst themselves, whether they wanted to or not; they kept up their appearances. But no one had voluntarily come to speak to her nor had anyone brought a girl her age.

She wished Anne was there, to speak her mind on how absolutely _stuffy _those people were and tell Diana one of her wonderful stories. Oh she could just imagine it-it was in a beautiful ballroom from an ancient castle that was built on a rocky cliff next to raging waters. There was a ball, where people from near and far came to attend; the prince was rumored to dance only with the perfect lady, the one he felt he could marry. His true love. Dozens of other girls would plead with him, urging him that they were his true love but he knew better. His father would sit in his high chair, watching it all from afar, knowing that his son would make the right choice.

And then _she _would appear, wearing a long, lovely blue dress. Her hair would flow down to her shoulders. She would not wear a bow. The prince would be listening to a different girl, a much meaner girl, obnoxiously insist _they _should dance when he noticed _her_. And he noticed how pretty she was, standing there all by herself. He would gently push aside the meaner girl, and approach her with a small bow. She would curtsey, giggle softly as he reached out for her hand-she would allow him to take hers, blushing at the contact of their skin.

And they would dance together.

The crowd would part and with a feeling that was only them two in the world, they would hold each other close and dance and the prince knew; he knew she was the one.

A sense of forlornly settled inside of her.

She wanted to have a happy ending like the prince and the girl. She wanted just a taste of that sort of happiness. But she wasn't ever going to get it; not if her parents had any say in it.

Diana hadn't moved much throughout the night. She stood in the corner by herself, holding onto a glass with her fingers wrapped tightly around it. She would sip, cautious to avoid making any noise in the presence of her mother or guests. Every once and awhile, after meeting the eyes of other people that she'd definitely seen before but was unable to recognize by name, her lips would quirk up into a halfhearted smile; an attempt at appearing friendly despite that she didn't want to be there.

Despite that the anxiety in her stomach was overwhelming her.

She wanted to vomit.

She set the glass down on one of the nearest tables and fiddled with her dress, needlessly adjusting it and disregarding what her mother had said about touching it.

Her mother had said a lot of things, not minding that most of it had been hurtful.

_"Honestly, Diana, what are you thinking?" _

_"Sit up straight! Look ahead, don't touch your hair!" _

_"That looks hideous on you, dear." _

_"Look at what you're doing to your father and I! Have you no shame?" _

_"You will do as you're told and you will marry well!" _

Behind her ears, they began to prickle with tears. She swallowed back the urge and evened out her breathing. She needn't cry, especially over something as trite as that. She needn't embarrass herself or her family on this special day. This was about her father and his accomplishments.

It was in those times, where she was consumed by a fire of revenging emotions, that she began to become envious of her younger sister. It was an awful feeling; one that devoured her. She was a Christian lady. She ought not to be thinking that way, thinking so...so...so _devilishly. _

It wasn't Minnie May's fault. She had no say in the matter. Diana should have been rational about it, should have had more sense. But irrationality had taken over her entire being.

In more ways than one.

She knew, she _knew _Minnie May was just a little girl, therefore it wasn't at any fault of hers that she was still able to stay content in her childhood pleasures while Diana was pressured into a society she wanted no part of.

_But we must do even what we don't wish to_

She'd learned that, from growing up in the Barry family, that was how things were meant to be.

Diana Barry didn't get a choice.

Now she just had to accept it.

But it wasn't easy. She didn't _want _to accept it; she was praying for a miracle to strike. She didn't want to be resigned about it. She didn't want to go along with the plans for her that her parents had carefully put together since her birth.

She wanted to be _free. _

She wanted to be her own person.

_All while I long for someone else _

The ache grew more profound. She closed her eyes.

_I must stop thinking this way _

_I must _

"Oh, Diana!" her mother's overly cheerful voice floated to her. Diana, cautiously, looked her way. Her mother was gesturing for her to come over. The other wives watched her closely, observing how she would respond. Their lips were pursed and oozing judgement. She could feel it, feel the air thickening. "Diana, darling, come here, please."

Diana didn't have any other choice. Though, standing alone was far more appealing, she went over and feigned a smile. She curtseyed, hoping to remember all of what she'd been instructed to do by her mother and Mrs. Rodefer. "Good evening," she said, upon realizing that they were waiting for _her _to speak first. She nodded politely at each lady, making sure they were acknowledged properly.

These were important women-the wives of the men her father worked with. Making a good impression was a _must_. If she met her goal, she might have a reference or two, should she ever need them. These women had connections; they knew the finest of teachers and eligible men out there. They were who she should be associating herself with, for she would be part of their society soon enough.

_And they looked so divine_. Diana admired the vast array of dress colors, the lace and the puffed sleeves! Anne would be swooning. Oh, and they wore the most beautiful jewelry that she'd ever seen! One woman-the first to arrive-Mrs. Bennet, wore the prettiest pearl necklace. It hung gracefully from her neck and shoned when the candle light struck it.

She might have been beautiful but her personality begged to differ. Diana had overheard her subtly bragging to the other ladies that her husband had bought it on one of his trips. She was vaguely reminded of Josie Pye.

The wives nodding approvingly and a rush of relief flooded through her. "My, my," Mrs. Bennet said with her hand on her pearl necklace. "Eliza, I must say, she's grown up so much. I think you have the making of a fine young lady."

"Oh, yes," another wife-Mrs...Clark? She racked her brain for an answer but was unable to recall the woman's identity correctly- said to her mother. "Quite so. Why, just look at her! She's a beauty if I've ever seen one."

Her mother beamed at the praise, pleased that all of her hard work was paying off and getting the recognition that she felt it deserved.

One of the other wives was eyeing Diana's dress, a mixture of curiosity and possibly envy within her eyes. Diana lowered her own, until she heard a faint cough-it came from her mother, subtly trying to tell her she must keep her head up like a proper lady.

She straightened herself immediately.

"I hate to pry," the same woman spoke up with a slight smile that didn't meet her eyes, in a tone that conveyed that she did not feel that way. "But I must ask, dear: Where _did _you come by that dress? It's stunning."  
Her mother laid her hands on her shoulders-taking her back to when she'd woken up from that...that wonderful dream-and giving her another tight squeeze. Diana didn't know why but she didn't like the feeling she felt after hearing the question. It was uncomfortable and she wished for the topic to be over. "It's from the states," she revealed and the women seemed impressed. "Just for the occasion."

"The states?" Mrs. Bennet inquired with a raised eyebrow. "That's quite the trip."

"It must have been plenty expensive," another agreed.

"Well, well, only the best for my children," her mother said, having a horrible time at trying to appear modest.

_Unfortunately so _

She hated to be thinking such thoughts but she couldn't deny her feelings.

The dress had arrived that morning, much to her mother's relief. She'd been panicking, worried that it wouldn't come until _after _the party. Diana didn't believe that she needed another dress; really, all of the ones she owned fit perfectly and were all pretty. But her mother wouldn't have it. She insisted that Diana needed a new one. Her shoes were polished and her bow was new as well.

Besides that, her mother had ordered the maids to assist Diana and Minnie May with their baths to make sure they were presentable. Diana had sat with her knees covering her breasts as the maid scrubbed her hair until it was shiny.

The conversation died down and went onto other things; things that grown up ladies discussed that didn't interest Diana. Her mind was still on the dress and how they'd reacted to it. They were like her schoolmates; how they had reacted to Josie being allowed to wear a grown up dress.

And she didn't like it.  
Was that how she was expected to grow up? To be around such people that hadn't changed from their childhood? She didn't want to be around such people and to be expected to enjoy their company. Those people weren't genuine and it became clear from the moment they stepped into the house that their reasons for going _weren't _to enjoy a night with friends.

"I hear you're going to be our entertainment tonight, Diana," Mrs. Bennet said in a tone that Diana didn't particularly care for.

The other ladies looked to her inquisitively.

"Yes, ma'am," she said carefully.

"And what will you be playing for us, Dear?"

"A composition from Beethoven," she said, trying to calm down the knots that were forming in her stomach.

"That's quite a feat," Mrs. Clark remarked. "A beauty with talent, Eliza, I've got to hand it to you. What well rounded children you have." She sighed in that way mother's do. "I do wish _my _children followed in your daughter's footsteps."

"You're too kind," her mother put a hand to her own chest. "I must say, it's taken great time and effort. Diana wasn't interested in preparing for her role as a woman of society initially, I'm afraid. But I believe we've gotten over it."

Mrs. Clark tisked in sympathy. "Children always think they know better at that age."

"I'll say," Mrs. Bennet added. "I just don't understand what possesses them to act so. Why, if I did when I was their age, my mother would hit me with a switch! She meant business, too. You didn't question it."

The women nodded to her words.

"Well, you just have to be persistent," her mother told them, tossing a quick look over to her daughter. "They'll learn. I've told Diana many, many times that her behavior needs to improve if she wants to find a respectable husband."

"That's right," Mrs. Clark said, as if she had been oblivious to it and suddenly remembered that Diana was at the age to be courted. "You're to be arranged soon. How is that going, Eliza? Have you found a suitable young man, yet?"

Diana's ears perked up.

"No, I'm afraid not," her mother sighed.

She felt that she was able to relax again.

"William and I are at odds. He wants to find her a husband before she is to leave for Paris but I must insist that she wait. Wait until after finishing school." Her mother leaned in to say in a hushed voice, "I'm quite certain she will become smitten with a French boy there. It's perfect, isn't it? William can find her the perfect man, no need to settle for some common boy here in Avonlea."

The very little appetite she already had vanished.

She was still uneasy about it, about going somewhere new and meeting all sorts of new people. On one hand, she appreciated that, should it occur, her marriage wouldn't be set with a classmate of hers. Although, she'd already witnessed several of her peers pair off, whether intentionally or not.

Billy and Josie were eyeing each other from across the room more often as of lately, rather than focusing on their schoolwork. Miss Stacy had caught them a time or two.

Ruby had an admiration for Moody now. She would be interested to see where God would take them to.

And then there was_ Gilbert _pining after Anne, of whom she was sure held affections for him as well.

_And then there's you...pining after Jerry _

She brushed the thought away. Whatever it was that she felt in regards to Jerry, she needn't let it get to her. Nothing would come of it, anyway, logically speaking. So why think about it?

_Yes, that is a very good question. Why am I thinking about it? _

But she could not stop herself.

The soft touch of his hand-he'd gone for her hair but his fingertips had softly grazed her cheek on the way there in a beautiful gesture. She could scarcely feel his hand still there and she bit back a smile; a genuine, wide smile that seemed far and few for her.

And her heart felt like _leaping_. Just merely drifting her thoughts away from what she was supposed to concentrate on and onto _him_ brought so many fond feelings that rose to the surface and made her feel light.

It was wrong. Every ounce of her core told her so; told her how people would react.

It was dirty.

It wasn't _becoming_.

She would throw aside everything she had ever been taught.

_I mustn't_, she thought strongly. _I mustn't. I won't_.

It was silly, these feelings. They happened to every school girl at some point and perhaps only arose because she was growing restless just thinking about Paris and finishing school.

And once she met the man of her dreams, once she finally settled down, everything would fall into place. All those nonsensical affections she thought she held for Jerry would disappear at last.

"My, my," Mrs. Clark waved a hand as if to cool herself, "a French boy. You're certainly a lucky girl, Diana."

"Yes, ma'am," she said, clasping her hands together. "I know."

"Are you excited for Paris?" one of the other wives, of whom she didn't catch her name, asked her straight away. "My own daughter is studying in Paris."

"Oh?" she said, pretending to be interested. "That's lovely. I suppose I am. I will miss Avonlea, though."

The same lady gave her a strange look then laughed slightly. "Why? What's there to miss?"

She wasn't sure how to word it so she didn't come off as offensive.

But her mother rushed in to 'save' the conversion before Diana ruined it. "You'll have to forgive Diana, ladies. She's being a bit emotional as of lately."

_I am not _

"She fears that she will miss her friends while she is gone," her mother continued, as if the thought was absurd. "Did you ever hear of such a thing?"

"Well, I wouldn't worry too much about that," Mrs. Bennet advised her. "You will have to push that aside and focus on your education. A man doesn't like a lady to be idle."

"Quite right," Mrs. Clark was wagging a finger. "You want to marry well, don't you?"

_All _eyes (including those of her suddenly apprehensive mother) were laid on Diana. She was stuck speechless and her words became caught in her throat.

"Well-I, erm, yes. Yes, of course."

"Then you must do your part," Mrs. Clark told her. "A lady your age must have grace and poise. She must know when to speak and when to be silent. And she must, _must_ be socially aware."

"Is all of this really necessary?" her mother said to the group, nervously chuckling. "My Diana knows all of this. She is being taught in the marvelous art of etiquette and I have no doubt that when she is away she will conduct herself in the highest quality possible."

"That's rather bold of you," Mrs. Bennet said slyly, "when you were just telling us that Diana wasn't interested."

Her face appeared innocent, seemingly trying not to seem confrontational. But Diana knew better. She saw right through the façade. She _saw _the gleam in her eyes, the one that falsely believed she had pinned Diana's mother into the corner.

Her mother held her composure (which was far better than she had been all week leading up to the party but she digressed), straightening herself and didn't let any emotion be evident on her face. "I appreciate your concern but I assure you that I have complete confidence in Diana." _No you don't. _"I know she will go to Paris and make us proud."

"That's wonderful," Mrs. Bennet said but Diana saw the tight smile fall as soon as her mother turned her attention on someone else.

A clicking noise echoed throughout the room. Diana's father was standing near the center, holding up his glass with a spoon. Everyone was looking towards him now and all those nerves she'd tried to suppress came back to her. They'd gone over it, gone over when she would be playing and even how she would approach the piano (her parents wanted perfection. After all, Barry's deserved perfection).

"May I have your attention please?" he brought the glass back down. "Thank you. Now I want to, first and foremost, thank all of you for coming this evening. This has been a fantastic turnout and I couldn't have done all of this without my magnificent wife, Eliza." He gestured to her mother with his hand.

Her mother did a half curtsey as the crowd clapped.

"And now, for our entertainment. My daughter Diana will be playing a piece composed by Beethoven, himself. Diana, take it away!"

The audience clapped again.

"Thank you," she said as she came over and just before she seated herself, she added, "I hope you all enjoy this." Diana smoothed down her dress, briefly stalling for time as she tried not to be overwhelmed.

But by goodness, there she was! The moment she'd dreaded the most was there! Now what was she to do?

_"If you get nervous just take a deep breath and count to twenty. Count backwards if you have to." _

_"It will keep your mind focused." _

She exhaled shakily and positioned her fingers.

_I can do this _

_One _

She began to play.

_Two _

It was going well enough. She hadn't messed up yet.

_Three _

_Four _

_Five _

_Six _

No one was saying a word and she hadn't decided whether it was good or bad.

_Seven _

_Eight _

_Nine _

_Ten _

She was getting close to the part of the piece where she would continually mess up. Even after all the practicing she'd done, Diana wasn't wholly confident in her abilities.

_Eleven _

_Twelve _

She was going to mess it up and her parents would be furious. Everything would be ruined and Mrs. Bennet would be subtly taunting her mother for Diana's failure.

_Thirteen _

_Fourteen _

What if they sent her off to Paris early? What if they were so disappointed that she would have to leave no matter much she pleaded and begged?

_Fifteen _

_Sixteen _

_I cannot let that happen, _she vowed. _I won't_.

_Seventeen _

_Eighteen _

She pushed away everything and anything from her mind and played as though...as though _he _were there, smiling that wonderful smile of his and waiting to congratulate her.

The nerves, the worry, the butterflies. It all just fell away. And she was perfect. She didn't mess up, not even once.

And she had Jerry to thank for her peace.

_Nineteen_

_Twenty _


End file.
